An Open Letter to My Friends Who Support Trump – and the Modern Republican Party
By Scott Stephen
Since the Civil War, there has been no greater political divide than in America today. Keeping a friendship alive with someone in the opposing party is quite challenging. I count many Republicans among my good friends, relatives and business associates. Some of these folks have been extremely loyal to me over the years.
If you’re my friend, I truly love you whether you’re a Democrat, Green, Republican or Libertarian. And I generally avoid political discussion with friends who have opposing views unless I sense those opinions are not deep rooted. Despite my efforts, I have lost a few friends along the way mostly due to Facebook posts which offended some individuals. Many of these same lost friends had themselves posted political articles that often bothered me but it has been my policy not to comment on a friends post unless I agree with it or in cases where the information is false and/or has been debunked.
By Jim Miller
During the halcyon days of the Trump transition period, the Education Committee confirmation hearing of Betsy DeVos stood out as perhaps the most jarring example of the craven cynicism that defines the new regime.
The headlines said it all, with nearly every major media outlet noting DeVos’s scant qualifications and terrible performance with extreme skepticism. The New York Times expressed “Big Worries About Betsy DeVos” while the New Yorker outlined “Betsy DeVos and the Plan to Break Public Schools.”
Tragedy enveloped Sunset Cliffs Saturday night, as one of two women rescued after being swept off rocks and into the foamy rough waters, died in a hospital later that night.
The 23-year-old woman, public identified as Adriana Toro, was the first fatality at the cliffs for the new year.
Witnesses told the media that they observed two women walking on rocks near Santa Cruz Avenue and Bacon Street fully dressed with coats and shoes attempting to get a close look at the waves just after sunset. Suddenly a large wave broke over the cliffs and swept both women into the churning surf.
By Bob Dorn
At 9:30 am on Sunday, January 21st, the No. 7 bus driver stopped for us even though he’d lighted the “Out of Service” banner. He told us with a smile “room for two more.” Passengers were butt to butt and belly to belly. A woman said she loved my hat: I’d cut out the letter N and O, for NO, and taped them to the red baseball cap I hadn’t been wearing lately out of fear I’d be considered a TrumpLump.
By the time we’d arrived at Broadway at the 12th Ave. Transit Center crowds on foot were already heading toward the Civic Center. Cars and buses could only inch along beleaguered Broadway. So we jumped off the bus at 4th Ave. and headed north to B St.