Taking it out on the Prez
Republicans continue to be hellbent on derailing the Affordable Care
Act. After the July Fourth recess, they'll be begging their members to
make America sick again. "Sick" saves money. It makes rich folks richer.
Heartless fat cats can't argue with that.
But
most Americans do have hearts. They care about each other. That's why we,
the majority, fight the Dark Side and the bright orange misogynist who
leads them.
Yesterday we rallied in front of Senator Rubio's office in Miami. He
continues to be 45's lackey in the efforts to dump the ACA and to make
health care worse.
The numbers are out, under Trump's latest plan 22 million will lose health care benefits.
Don't stop now. Resist!
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Note: Sometimes the blog program that I use gets a weird glitch in it that makes some of the lettering small. When you try to fix it, it gets smaller! If I try to fix it again you'll have to use a microscope to read it. If it's too small to read now, it's no big deal, the photos (which didn't shrink) tell the story.
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After we came home from the health care rally there was an ominous fire/rescue truck parked on our street. That story follows.
With The Orange Loser running the country there is so much to resist. One thing are his efforts to hurt,
belittle and tear apart immigrants and their families. In Miami immigrants are everywhere, some "legal", some not. Many do the menial jobs most of us try to avoid.
Do you know anyone that likes doing yard work in the hot summer sun? Lawn service trucks are all over Coconut Grove.
One of them belonged to Justo Delgado. He came here from Peru and quickly found work
maintaining lawns. Over the years he developed a successful
landscaping business that takes care of most of the yards on my street.
While I do my own yard work, I asked Justo for help three years ago. I
needed someone to climb a tall tree to lope off a thick rotten limb.
It was much too high for me.
I figured he'd ask one of his
sons to do it but with no hesitation, Justo -ten years younger than me-
did it himself. He was happy to climb up and crawl out on a limb with a chain saw
dangling at his side.
Yesterday he and his sons were doing similar work work for a neighbor down the
block. Justo climbed a tall ladder with a pole saw in hand. As he cut
through a hard-to-reach branch his saw hit a power line. Justo was
electrocuted and fell to the ground. Efforts to revive him failed.
The deadly wire, just off Douglas Road
Our neighborhood is shaken by his death. He was one of us. His kids are our neighbors too. Justo's boys were back cleaning our yards at 8 a.m. this morning.
When a neighbor approached one to express her condolences he thanked
he and added, "We're working today to honor our father".
Justo was also one of millions of hard-working immigrants who we
should honor, not vilify. We're in this together. All of us deserve
understanding, respect, and basic human rights.
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"There are many things that concern me about the Trump presidency — in
fact, few don’t — but the frivolous blurring of truth and untruth, fact
and falsehood, is the most grave. Liberty depends on facts. When the
distinction between truth and lies disappears there is no basis for the
rational discourse on which the organization of a free society, governed
by laws, depends. Disorientation propagates itself — and disoriented
people are more inclined to accept a despot as sole font of truth."
-NY Times editorial, 6-23-17
There was so much happening in Belfast,Maine, last weekend it seemed like the center of the universe. Paul Naron -the former owner of Shell Lumber-
Paul, Chef Salika, and the Grove guy
finally opened his farmers market to rave reviews.
Dozens of happy vendors were hawking everything from pizza to pea tendrils.
Julie and Francesca met a local
who has his own cheese cave!
A block away the Shriners were putting on a bizarre parade. For almost hour fez-topped white coats
led a troupe of scary clowns, miniature tow trucks, and hot-roding go-carts.
I guess it's their King Mango Strut.
I’ll be devoting an entire blog the Fez Boyz soon.
There was more- 1700 bicyclists were participating in the state’s annual Trek Across Maine. With 800 miles of winding coast line, this 180-mile journey could have ended anywhere but, for some reason, it ended in front of Paul's house. The fastest riders crossed the finish line while we at pancakes. Most riders passed by during our crab cake lunch and by late afternoon cocktails the bikers my age finally saw blue water in this mountains to the sea event.
An hour later the Belfast Yacht Club kicked off its BYOBB (“beer and beef’) barbecue. Joining was as easy as paying the $2 membership fee. Francesca and I are now members of this exclusive enclave.
The next morning, I wandered down to the town’s marina where members of the Belfast Boating Club invited me to join them. We climbed into these 32' Cornish gigs and rowed out to sea.
It was mesmerizing to be gliding through the fog, pulling oars to the coxswain's cadence.
After all the Belfast excitement we were ready for the quiet life. We fled to this beautiful cottage on Lake Damariscotta.
(It is listed on Airbnb at www.airbnb.com/rooms/16630159 . For the price of a cheap motel room in Miami you can bunk you and your six kids here for a week or more)
Coconut Grove's Villano family has the cabin next door. They invited us over for lobster and a tour of their beautiful lake.
Afterwards we gathered around a quiet shoreline fire. A mink paddled by as an eagle flew overhead. Poor Maineiacs. They have to put up with all that.
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End of the day, Lake Demariscotta (The sharpie was built at the Barnacle by South Miami HS students and park volunteers)
Sitting in ancient Adirondack chairs facing a cool ocean breeze, what a way to start a summer.
You can do that at Captain Henry’s House in Round Pond, Maine. It was our first stop on a brief trip north.
The 1850's farm house belongs to a Coconut Grove couple who rent it out through Airbnb (to see ”The Captain’s House” at www.airbnb.com/rooms/11041490 ). Heading back in time is a easy at this place. You fly to Portland then drive north an hour to the tranquil fishing village.
The 150-year-old house sits on 4 1/2 acres rolling down to the harbor. The former owner, "Captain Henry", got his rank serving as a physician in WW II. After the war he'd sneak away from his Harvard teaching job to spend summers in Round Pond. Above, Henry as a young man, 1922.
It's easy to see why Hank and his family loved this place. It's on the ocean but off the beaten path. It's fully furnished but if you want to go out, seaside dining is just a three-minute walk away. Along the path you'll marvel at lupine shooting up like colorful rockets.
Every Maine restaurant will be happy to sell you a "lobster roll" which is basically a $20 hot dog.
The farmhouse got real plumbing a century ago but the "old plumbing" is still there.
Next to the master bathroom is a wash stand and a chamber pot.
Connected to the kitchen below is an out house that is in the house.
I wanted to try it but encountered stiff opposition from my better half.
When the house was sold to friends two years ago the captain's family chose to sell it “as is”, which, in this case, as it was in 1926. Back then there were no televisions. People watched each other and
occasionally conversed.
They also read books (the house has hundreds),
sang songs around the Steinway (there's one),
or listened to them on the Victrola. We did all of these things gleefully at our Round Pond abode.
Detail, front entrance
Detail, Barn wall
There was a small TV but we never considered turning it on. There were too many better things to do… seaside hiking,
kayaking,
and examining very old hatboxes.
Inside each were like-new treasures from the 1890’s ready for the next Easter parade.
We had a wonderful time living in the past but there were more places to visit. Two days ago we carefully placed the hats back in their boxes and pushed off for our next Pine State adventure.
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When the President heard about Wednesday’s “Artist March” in Wynwood, he knew he had to go. “I’m an an artist myself”, he lied adding, “I wrote 'The Art of the Deal' " (another lie, someone else wrote it).
Anyway, the fool leading our country put down his golf clubs long enough to promote himself in yesterday's Miami art district protest parade. Upon arrival he learned there were no golf carts available, everyone was walking in the pedestrian event.
“Walking? what’s that?”, he joked. When the Haitian ra-ra band started stepping out he followed for a few blocks. Our President waved signs suggesting that we should trust both him and Vladimir Putin.
When the artists around him began chanting, “Hey, hey, ho, ho, Donald Trump has got to go!”, he took the hint and high-tailed it back to Mar-o-lago.
Good riddance.
Cheetohead is threatening to come to Miami again on Friday to announce his new Cuba policy. Sources say it will ban trading all products with Cuba that do not carry the Trump brand.
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