Archive for June 2012

Get Over Yourself, America

America, did you know there are other countries in the Americas—yes other countries in addition to the United States of America. Hold onto your socks, cheerleader types. The Americas includes North America and South America according to those maps that hung in 1950s elementary schools. And if you really want to get irritated, notice that... Read more »

USPS doesn't ring once-Danny Davis doesn't contact once

When our local postboxes were stolen away by USPS, I tried to go through the system.  The system said, gone due to NATO. Then the system said, gone due to budget cuts. So I goosed it up the food chain and wrote emails to both Representative Danny Davis and Senator Dick Durbin. As ever, I... Read more »

Fowls dare call it foul?

Nothing is so amusing as watching the GOP cry “foul” for President Obama’s time-out on deporting young undocumented, US residents. Foul, the GOP says–you (Obama) didn’t DO anything about immigration. True. In the 50-days when Obama had a technical majority, he didn’t do anything about immigration. And then when the GOP blocked the DREAM Act–and... Read more »

Bully Boy Mitt

It was only a small bit of news, the fact that Mitt Romney had his aides disrupt an Obama event with rude screaming and shouting, and blowing of the always irritating vuvezelas. Huh, I thought. Just like Mitt the Adolescent Bully who doesn’t like someone’s hair (so much for his touted belief in freedom), so... Read more »

Nude Naked after NATO STILL

Denuded of the post boxes in the South Loop around 18th and S. Calumet/S. Indiana before NATO, we waited patiently for their return. Still no post boxes. Hard to support the USPS w/o post boxes. Called the local post station at 20th and State. Told, “we are doing a study.” No boxes till then? WHAT?????... Read more »
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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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