rumitoid

"What did those damn bells say?"

Earth is a noisy place. Bird song and rosters before we are really awake. Kids right after that clamoring for TV, video games and cereal. Pets meowing and barking for food. Hair dryers and newfangled electric tooth brushes whirring. And it is not even Seven AM. Then the radio starts with the weather report and local news, sparking some debate or worry. The baby is crying over her Gerber mush of peas. Our mate reminding us of what we need from the supermarket or home repair, especially the electric or plumbing problems. Oh and don't forget our dental appointment. That and diapers. Then there is the large rattle and noxious fumes of Public Transportation or snarl of blaring horns in Commuting and middle finger outrage of delay. Who can really think? Is there anything left to actually think of? And that's just suburban America. What about India or South America?

OPP says, echoes, “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me." We are there to soothe and calm your nerves. Gentle and sincere and genuine exchanges. Civility is key. It is a luxurious bath of concern and waveless debated harmony, bubbles and warmth from a caring community of concerned Americans. Party does not take precedent over the primary objective of preserving and promoting this nation's ideals and representing we the people.