Last time out I mentioned something about moms in the news; rather, I decried those women with children who are nine parts vagina and one part mother.
The two women I noted were moms in
name only; moms only by the accident of birth; two “mothers” made mothers
merely by the fluke of a lucky sperm shot on an unlucky egg. No, being a
mom implies more than spreading your legs and squeezing out a kid every year
and then wailing and sobbing in front of the cameras when that kid whose name
you barely remember is killed in a drug deal gone wrong and you standing there with
faux tears blaming society for his ratty life and his violent death.
Being a mother is about love and sacrifice in good times and bad; it’s about
being something greater than yourself and transcending your own selfish wants
and needs; it’s about giving it up to save what you made; in a word, it’s about
an instinctual impulse as old as time to defend your offspring to the death, if
necessary. Clearly, the two mentioned in the previous blog were just
oxygen thieves and space wasters, makin’ babies and makin’ more problems for
themselves and for the world.
Enter Brandi Bookamer of Daytona,
Florida. Brandi, 27, did what a real mom does. She did it
instinctively cause that’s what moms do. She gave it up. Brandi was
prepared to give that last full measure to protect her chick.
Walking with her six-year-old
daughter on a rural road near Daytona at dusk last Sunday, Brandi was horrified
when she saw not one, not two, not three, not even four, but five pit bulls
running her way! Five loose pit bulls--looking for something to maul,
maim, and murder--a mom and her daughter walking alone.
Perfect. By the intensity of their stares and the speed in their steps,
it was clear to Brandi that the creatures were going to attack. Brandi
didn’t even think.
“Run!” she screamed to her daughter,
“Run home. . . . Run! Run!”
The frightened child did as her mom
said and ran as hard as she could toward home.
Meanwhile, as she saw her daughter
fleeing, the mother turned about to face the blood-thirsty beasts and draw the
entire attack upon herself . . . and herself alone. What happened next must
have been a terrible sight to see. Who would not have wished to be there
to help her, with a loaded pistol, a machete or a simple club?
Later, when the EMT arrived, they found that Brandi was
"barely moving." The woman was drenched in blood and completely
shredded. The dogs had left her for dead. Incredibly, although she
was covered with dog bites and gashes, none of the wounds was fatal. The
para-medics were stunned that Brandi survived such a vicious mauling with her
life. That was the good news. None of that good news, however, was due in
any way to the low-life loser who allowed this herd of four-legged
food-blenders to pack up and swim free as sharks in the neighborhood. But
I am angry, and I digress. . . .
Brandi Bookamer proved beyond all
doubt that she was a five-star mother; not just in fun times, but in bad
times. In that true moment of terror and fear when a mom needs to step up,
Brandi did. Who of us would not be proud to say, “That’s my mom!
She laid her life on the line for me! My mom is the greatest mom in the
world and I will always love her!”
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Greedy Geezers—Some 80-year-old woman up in Ocala got scammed out of $200K
this week. Yes, of course, she got that phone call. Yes, of course,
she won those millions. Yes, of course, all she had to do to collect was pay
some trivial “earnings tax.” Yes, of course, half of that
tax--$100K—had to be sent to Honduras and yes, of course, the other half had to
be sent to Jamaica. And yes, of course, the greedy old fool sent it all.
“I’ve sent money through the bank
and the post office,” said the addled idiot as she sat waiting for the check to
arrive. “I’ve never received one red cent.”
All this child can say is: "Good.
It serves the woman right. Anyone that damned greedy deserves to be
fleeced. I hope she lost every red cent." On the down
side, the fact that this geezer gave up so much dough insures that these scum-sucking scammers will redouble their efforts to shake down others.
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Crazy Old Coot—Up near Tampa, a 90-year-old gentleman was shopping at a
local grocery store when he fell and broke his hip and wrist. Just fell
and broke his hip and wrist. Employees helped this fellow up and out to
his car where they simply watched as he drove away. Letting this injured
NINETY-YEAR-OLD simply drive away in a two-ton vehicle? Is that not akin
to a bartender helping a drunken gorilla get in an eighteen-wheeler and drive away down a busy highway?
Anyway, old Jedidiah somehow made it
back to his garage, but lo! With that broken wrist he found that he could not open his door
to get out; nor, with his broken hip, could he move and use the other
hand. And so, for the next three days--THREE DAYS--the injured man simply
sat in that car, waiting for help. Although he had nothing to drink in
the ferocious heat he did finish up the groceries he’d purchased-- ice cream, fig bars, a
pound cake.
“Jeez, it’s been three days,” he
thought to himself. “I hope I don’t die in this car.”
Alright, let’s cut to the chase . .
. long story short . . . here’s the skinny . . . this is it in a nutshell . . .
the bottom line. Someone walking by saw a hand waving feebly from the car
window and investigated. End of story. But really? Is there not
someone close to this man who could pitch in once a week and drive him to the
store? Will it take him dying of hunger and thirst, then bloating up triple and
exploding in gas and guts all over his own garage or basement, or worse, will it take him running
over and squashing some kids or cyclists, to get the attention of the Florida DMV?
The man proved he cannot walk and shop safely, much less drive and live safely.
At what point, America? We are broke; nay, we are worse than broke; we are in debt, hopelessly, impossibly, eternally in
debt. Our old people are quickly becoming hot button items, and there are so many of them. We need sudden solutions. Yet, what? Yet, how? Yet, who?
