Saturday, August 30, 2008

Shattered Dreams

Yippee! Life is coming back. I really enjoyed the show. It was as quirky as Dexter, but not as violent. Why ABC is touting it instead of NBC, the network it's really on, is beyond me. Whatever it takes to bring it more viewers attention is okay by me.

In the it's about time category, the Hubbard Act has been amended so that it doesn't punish the sole veteran survivors for the last 65 years. And Bush signed it without a veto threat, what a concept.

In regards to this experience to be President thing.  The only candidates that run for office and have the experience to do the job, are called incumbents.  Every single President has had to learn on the job.  Every single one, from George Washington to George Bush.  Nobody has a clue until they start doing the job.  Let's move on from a lack of experience to a lack of substance.  That applies to all the candidates.  Anyone who wants to be President, should be disqualified immediately.  I've known people who aren't in politics that could do a better job than the crop we've been saddled with since 1980.  Although I'm willing to admit that my life circumstances were so much better under Clinton.  Heck, I was living better than I am now when Carter was President.  I was even able to buy a house in California and make the payments.

Turns out mom had a slight fracture of her hip but the orthopedist didn't feel like doing anything about it (not even call and tell her to stay off of her leg, which I was already making her do) and when we went for mom's follow up with her primary care idiot, I had to beg for a walker for her.  We're on our way to get one now.    Pain medication was nonexistent for her and if it wasn't for a good friend who had some Lidocaine patches, she wouldn't have been able to function at all.  It doesn't matter if you have insurance or not, they just don't care about the patient anymore.  It's a good thing I have a medical degree or she would be toast.  Her doctor hates me and it doesn't bother me at all.  If I didn't speak up, they would just let her die.  Painfully.

How about a little music for the morning?  Back to the eighties with Johnny Hates Jazz.


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