I am so embarrassed by what is going on in Washington D.C. with the impeachment trial of President Donald J. Trump. Maybe I shouldn’t take it personally that the members of Congress are going after my President, but I do.
Watching the House hearings on the impeachment of my President by the members of my political party sickens me. Madam Speaker of the House Nancy Patricia Pelosi is on a hate-fueled vendetta to punish President Trump because he won the election over Hilary Clinton. Hey Nancy Pat, sore loser much? The Democrats hate Trump because he has kept many of the campaign promises. He is securing our borders to keep out the people they want to let in. They profess their motives are altruistic, humanitarian, etc. What they want is to allow refugees to register to vote. If you can get them the citizen privilege to vote, they will be beholding to the Democratic Party.
Trump is not a perfect president. He has vowed to drain the swamp in our hallowed seats of government and he is working on it. He is working to secure our borders. Okay, maybe he hasn’t figured out how to make Mexico pay for the wall yet. Guess what? The view from the top down is quite different than it was looking up. Nobody knows what it is like to be President or what power he will wield until they actually occupy the Oval Office.
Madam Speaker, when you announced the commencement of the House hearing and your minions cheered, you gave them the “mom is ticked” off look to quell the Squad because you professed it to be a solemn moment.
Then, once you eventually were ready to sign the Articles of Impeachment before sending them to the Senate, you used a reported 30 of your special Nancy Pelosi signature pens.
Internet rumor debunker Snopes said, “according to critics, the event was a bit unusual because Pelosi used multiple pens to sign the documents and then handed the writing utensils out as souvenirs.”
Are those the actions of someone who is aggrieved to be prosecuting the President of the United States? Or, is it someone who is enjoying her moment in the Sun?
Her appearance on television telling the President he is impeached forever reminded me of a fried chicken television commercial that stated “It’s Shake and Bake and I Helped.”
If it sounds like I am trivializing the Speaker of the House, good, that’s what I was going for.
The rest of the world is laughing at those “Rich, Ugly Americans,” that don’t have enough sense not to air their dirty linen in public.
The Democrats in Congress has been trying to impeach the President for 22 months, according to Representative Steve Scalise. He calls it a political vendetta and I agree with him.
The reason he has been impeached (by the House) is to hurt his ability to win a second term. They are trying to remove him from office and then prevent him from running for reelection. That one is going to blow up in their faces.
This week I am planning to re-register to vote. But this time instead of registering like good little Democrat I am going to become one of those voters who select the “Decline to State,” as a political party.
At the age of 18, I registered to vote. And like my parents before me, I registered as a Democrat.
Politics have played a big part in my life. I spent my childhood functioning as a Democrat. At the age of 5, my mother, brother and I joined the Grassroots efforts to elect John F. Kennedy president. By Grassroots efforts, I mean we went house to house with JFK literature and voter registration forms. When then-Senator Kennedy came through Madera on a train we were at the depot to greet him.
In the sixth grade, my political mother supported Edmund G. “Pat,” Brown for California Governor. Attempting to do my part, I argued with my teacher Max Flaming that Pat Brown should be elected instead of his candidate Ronald Reagan. I wore a Pat Brown campaign button to school to combat his button for Reagan. That is the first election I felt I lost.
In 1968, I stuffed envelopes for the Democratic Central Committee for the presidential campaign of Robert F. Kennedy. I was one of the local residents to greet RFK when he made his whistle-stop in Madera.
In 1972, my friends and I worked on the presidential campaign of George McGovern. In all fairness, we were told that if McGovern were elected he would legalize Marijuana. What a fiasco that campaign turned into. His first choice for a running mate, Thomas Eagleton, dropped out of the race when his mental health treatments were made public. We embraced his choice of a Kennedy in-law and continued to work for the Democratic ticket.
I cut school with my mom and went to Fresno State College to greet Robert Sargent Shriver, and made the front page of the Fresno Bee. Not identified by name, but described as I yelled “Sarge, Sarge,” to get his attention and shake his hand. The reporter called me a young, rotund female supporter. I had already told the story to all my teachers the tale the next day as I explained my absence the day before.
My favorite teacher Lois Worthington brought in her copy of that day’s paper and posted it on her bulletin board.
I was heartbroken when Richard M. Nixon won the White House in a landslide and made up my mind to never get that emotionally involved in another political campaign. I still believe Nixon and LBJ had a role in the assassination of JFK as retribution for the 1960 election and to get Johnson his turn in the big chair. I could be seen doing a happy dance when Nixon was forced to resign and when LBJ refused to run again in 1968, making room for RFK to occupy 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
The next time I dabbled in politics, I signed the nominating petition and worked to get former Madera County Sheriff Ed Bates elected to Congress. Again, I suffered a political disappointment, you would think I would learn.
When Bill Clinton ran for president in 1993, I became interested in his campaign thinking as many of us did that WJC would be the JFK of our generation. As it turned out, he ended up being very much like President Kennedy, but not in a good way, not in the way we expected.
When Barack Obama became president in 2009, I felt intrigued by the possibilities. Not just because the Bush years were behind us, but I was. Also because Michele Obama danced with a Marine from Madera at the Inaugural Ball.
I was serving for the first time as Senior Editor for our Saturday morning edition. My front page included a cutout photo of this young Marine and FLOTUS on the dance floor. It made for an impressive package.
Soon after I saw my front page posted on the bulletin board at Madera Community Hospital. The Marine’s mother worked at MCH. Her son’s photo with the First Lady had the desired effect of Madera being a relevant part of a national story. I made the work we did to track down the Associated Press photo and share it with our community very satisfying.
Watching the impeachment hearings is an exercise in listening to a lot of pompous people enjoying the sound of their own voices. I believe President Trump will prevail and be reelected in 2020. I have got to quit watching YouTube.
Long days and pleasant nights, have a good weekend.
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Readers may contact Tami Jo Nix by emailing firstname.lastname@example.org or following @TamiJoNix on Twitter.