My Mother the Wobbly

Perhaps it's the Percoset talking, but nonetheless, I believe my mother is ambling towards the left-end of the political spectrum at a rate that frankly astounds me.

She's getting into a serious "tax the rich" frame of mind. I heartily applaud the sentiment, of course, but her vehemence is something to behold. On the other hand, I never had to go to bed hungry - and she did - which is a great equalizer in any debate one cares to have on this subject.

My mom was raised in rural Arizona. She did not get enough to eat on more days than she cares to recall. She lived in a shack. For most of her childhood there was no electricity. No running water. I think she had finished the 8th grade when she moved to Juneau in September, 1941. She was fifteen years old. She went to work at the Baranof Hotel - first as a dishwasher and ultimately working in the pantry. She made the sandwiches that one would eat when one flew out of Juneau on a Pan Am flight to Seattle.

My mom has the heart of a lion and is as tough as nails.

Neither one of us understands the health care debate. How can our elected representatives be so stupid? So oblivious to the obvious?

Mom says "tax the rich" - I think she's on to something...