TRUMP-OUR OWN WILLY LOMAN

"Death of a Salesman is not set during the Depression but it bears its mark, as does Willy Loman, a sixty-three-year-old salesman, who stands baffled by his failure. Certainly in memory, he returns to that period, as if personal and national fate were somehow intertwined, while in spirit, according to Miller, he also reaches back to the more expansive and confident, if empty, 1920s, when, according to a president of the United States, the business of America was business. And since he inhabits ‘‘the greatest country in the world,’’ a world of Manifest Destiny, where can the fault lie but in himself? If personal meaning, in this cheerleader society, lies in success, then failure must threaten identity itself. No wonder Willy shouts out his name. He is listening for an echo. No wonder he searches desperately back through his life for evidence of the moment he took a wrong path; no wonder he looks to the next generation to give him back that life by achieving what had slipped so unaccountably through his own fingers. "

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CHAOS REVISITED

" a state of utter confusion or disorder; a total lack of organization or order." Isn't four years of this enough, seriously? The constant media drumbeat, TRUMP TRUMP TRUMP, dominating the headlines, the news shows, and our conversation. This did not happen by accident, this was a calculated strategy by a certified narcissist. "Narcissism: a mental condition in which people have an inflated sense of their own importance, a deep need for excessive attention and admiration, troubled relationships, and a lack of empathy for others." The Trump supporters say that "this is just Trump being Trump" that, my friends, is precisely the problem. Now that he's lost the election and his sycophants in Congress have replaced their horns with silence, if not acceptance, wouldn't you think the man would suck it up, acknowledge the inevitable, exhibit a modicum of humility and devise an exit strategy that would highlight his accomplishments not feed his addi...

THE LAST HURRAH

https://youtu.be/IJthTSCYJ7g The party's over It's time to call it a day They've burst your pretty balloon And taken the moon away It's time to wind up the masquerade Just make your mind up the piper must be paid The party's over The candles flicker and dim You danced and dreamed through the night It seemed to be right just being with him Now you must wake up, all dreams must end Take off your makeup, the party's over It's all over, my friend

PLEASE GOD, SAY IT ISN'T SO

Pause. Breathe. BY MARIA SHRIVER It’s okay not to be okay today. I certainly wasn’t okay when I went to bed. I hit the hay way too late. I ate way too much. I bit off my nails. I didn’t have the evening I thought I was going to have. It felt reminiscent of 2016 at times. It was a total roller coaster. (I'm writing this as the election has yet to be called.) I know most of us are waking up feeling confused, sad, angry, bewildered. Most of all just exhausted. We’ve all been through a lot, and while we have been through it together, we have also all gone through it in our own personal way. It’s brought up so much for so many, so go easy today. Put your hand over your heart. Feel it beating, close your eyes. Breathe. Honor yourself for making it to this moment. For having made the effort to make your voice heard, even if you didn’t get everything you wanted. Honor the fact that you stepped up. You were a part of history. Think about that. For me...

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