I always wonder where this blog ends up,

and who reads it.

I installed a little widget - the map you see in the sidebar - just scroll down on the left. I am so surprised. I thought it might be stuck in cyberspace. You rarely comment. And those that do, I know.

I hope I don't come across as cranky old crone who has nothing to do but tell you about politics in the formerly grand old USA.

I don't think my friends or family feel that way. You can see by my photos (if you ever visit my galleries), that "my" personal world is full of beauty, but this election has thrown me into such a state, that I shout into the cyberspatial wilderness, hoping something I say will stick to something "out there".

Truly, I believe this election will shake our world. I can't in good conscience forget for a minute that I have grandchildren, for whom I am fighting in the only ways I can; by engaging politicians into answering my questions; by emailing information, by telephone, by this blog. We in America have grown fat and lazy, and will not take personal responsibility for government. Because as readers of this blog, you must understand that our country was born out of the sweetness of liberty and freedom, and the wisdom of men who farmed or crafted or were merchants and fought for a dream with words, with blood and fortune.

We have helped liberate countries and people by shedding our blood in order that they may taste that dizzying sweetness of liberty. But I believe something terribly sinister is about to happen; something so calamitous that martial law will be forced upon us and our Constitutional rights suspended along with what used to be the government "for the people". And I am afraid that a dictator - a tyrant - will emerge, who has blinded so many by the rythm and rhetoric of his speech and promises he can't keep, of if he does keep them, they will ruin our country in many ways.

And that will come because of election fraud, which is rampant now with computerized voting machines, devious organizations who are out actively trading dollars or cigarettes for a signature on a voter registration form and a flood of illegal aliens which our Border Patrol agents refuse to stop, even as they step through the barbed wire of our border and onto our soil in places like Texas. The news is saying now that we will not know if there was fraud until the election is over. What then?

Will the government, no longer run "by the people and for the people" but by "themselves", turn renegade against "us"? I believe it will if we choose the wrong candidate, or are given a president elected by fraud.

I want a better world for all of us. I want a better government comprised of honorable men and women of unshakable integrity and conscience installed in office through the return to paper ballots, or at least a receipt in return for one vote/one person. I want a return to Constitutional government; to a Constitutional Republic. I want a strong America, but I don't think we need a police state at home, or an American president who can declare war with an Executive Order and ignore the procedures set down by our Constitution.

If I don't keep trying to convince others that there are things terribly wrong in this country that need to be corrected, I won't be able to look my grandchildren in the face.

I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror. My conscience won't allow it.

My great grandparents owned sugar plantations in Cuba. They were part of an underground that freed slaves and sent them to America. My great grandmother's family were born in Cuba.
She lived a life of great privilege, and during her childhood, had servants to attend her. My grandmother told me that she had never worn anything but silk slippers until she came to New York, and had to wear hard leather shoes. My great grandfather came from Madrid, Spain, immigrated to Cuba, and got involved with sugar and shipping, and married my great grandmother. And then they came with children and their parrot, with the clothes on their back, to take on a new life and succeed in America.

Maybe I get my fight from them.

Maybe I get it from my father, son of simpler Italian immigrants, who were told that the streets in America were paved with gold. The gold was the gift of opportunity. And nine children and lots of grandchildren later, our legacy was hard work, love of family, and success that didn't necessarily come with wealth. It wasn't an easy row to hoe for them, either. It was a time when America was good and great and the only thing to hinder you from success was yourself.

I see that I've gone international with this blog. I hope that you return, and never lose your curiosity about me or the spirit you might find here. I hope something you find here sparks an ember - whether it's a political opinion or our founding documents, the links I provide or the truth I try to uncover.

Whatever it is, don't believe what I tell you. Back it up with your own research.

Question. Question. Question. If you can't wield a big shovel, get a teaspoon and dig for the truth.

And pray for this tarnished country, that she may emerge from this election intact and on the road to becoming better than ever.


*In case you're interested, that's my mother and aunt in the upper left in the early 1900s, and my father as my Uncle Nunzi's (boxing under the name of "Dummy Moran") second in the "Roaring Twenties".