(An update from 2024)

By Bob Gaydos

  This was going to be a rant, then I remembered it was Thanksgiving and I can always rant about the same stuff and the same people another day, so it’s going to be a gratitude column. Better for my health and yours. Better to be thankful than bitter. Better to enjoy the day. (It’ll also be shorter.)

   So what am I thankful for? Let’s start with the confidence, after 60 years of writing, to know that sometimes it’s OK to end a sentence with a preposition.  Or a proposition. Thankful, in large part, that at my age, although some components of my body have slowed down or simply broken, the brain seems willing and able to do this writing stuff every day. Sometimes, it insists.

  Thankful, of course, for readers across the years, who have been there to give me encouragement, criticism and feedback and continue to do so today. Without you, I’m an old man talking to myself.

  I’m thankful for the teachers, colleagues and mentors I’ve had along the way and even the bosses who didn’t appreciate my unique talent.  Although I didn’t appreciate it at the time, they taught me humility and how to look for a new job.

  On a more personal level, I’m thankful for growing up in Bayonne, N.J., in the 1950’s. Soda shops, sock hops, Johnny Mathis. Sinatra, too. For family and friends, old and new, who have provided love and support and still help me to be open to new challenges, new ideas, new vitamin supplements.

  Thankful for science and the fact that I have successfully gone from typing my story or column on an Underwood manual typewriter to a Taiahiro Gaming Keyboard, which takes my iPhone hostage. Thank you, Gilbert.

  For Max and Zack and filling the birdfeeders on a sunny day. For sushi, salt and vinegar potato chips, thin, crisp, New York pizza, Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, baseball, tall trees, an occasional hot dog, coffee, guacamole, artists and poets, cataract surgery, Bill Wilson, first responders, wonton noodle soup, music, food in the fridge, talented surgeons, electric blankets, horses and dogs. Cats, too.

Thankful in these times of political turmoil and anger for departed friends like Victor, who constantly reminded me, “Bobby, isn’t it great to be present in your own life?” Once upon a time, people used to call me Bobby. Thankful for Evelyn, who always reminded me that everything was another “fine” growth opportunity. And for discovering Eckhart Tolle, whose message on my phone keeps reminding me that there is only now. There is no next. Got it.

  I’m also thankful that I’ve learned how to get in and when to get out. I tried to keep this under 400 words, but I guess I have more to be thankful for than I thought. Thankful for that.

 Happy Thanksgiving to all you loyal, wonderful readers, who give me the incentive to keep on doing this every day.

Bob

(Please don’t be shy. Thank you for sharing your thankful thoughts in the comments below with the rest of us.)

Addiction and Recovery

By Bob Gaydos  

Hosts should know that “No, thank you“ is an acceptable answer at holiday parties.

 (Some thoughts worth repeating.)

When I began writing my Addiction and Recovery column 18 years ago, it soon became obvious to me from conversations with people in recovery that this time of the year could be challenging, especially for those with alcohol or food disorders. Accordingly, and because new people enter recovery each year, I have made this particular column an annual offering.

***

    We are entering the so-called Bermuda Triangle of Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s, the time to “eat, drink, and be merry.” That can be tough to do when you’re an alcoholic in early recovery, someone with an eating disorder, or someone who just loves to use the credit card. Addicts all in their own way. Times have changed. We now have California sobriety, Dry Januarys, fancy mocktails. But the suggestions in this column remain pretty much the same, many of them gleaned from talking to members of Alcoholics Anonymous with longtime sobriety. If  it’s not broke, they suggest, don’t fix it.    But, as time has gone on, I’ve learned that an equally important audience for this column are the party givers, some of whom may not understand the challenges of recovery. So, gracious hosts, this one’s also for you.

    People who have found their way to recovery, be it via a 12-step program or otherwise, have been given suggestions on how to survive the season of temptation without relapse. If they use these tools, with practice, they can even enjoy the season.

   It’s the rest of you I’m mainly talking to here. You hosts, family members, well-meaning friends who want to be supportive and do the right thing, but aren’t sure what that is. And yes, to those who don’t get the concept of addiction at all, but can still avoid harming a relationship by following a few basic suggestions. So, herewith, some coping tools for the non-addicted, if you will:

• “No, thank you” is a complete sentence and perfectly acceptable answer. It should not require any further explanation. “One drink won’t hurt you” is a dangerously ill-informed reply. The same goes for, “A few butter cookies won’t hurt. C’mon, it’s Christmas.” Or, “Get the dress. Put it on your credit card. You’ll feel better.” Not really.
• By the way, “No, thank you” is an acceptable answer even for people not in recovery. Not everyone who turns down a second helping of stuffing or a piece of pumpkin pie is a member of Overeaters Anonymous. Not everyone who prefers a ginger ale rather than a beer is a member of AA. Not everyone who won’t go into hock for an expensive New Year’s Eve party is a compulsive debtor. But some of them may be.
•  If you’re hosting a party to which people in recovery have been invited, have some non-alcoholic beverages available. Not just water. There are plenty of new ones available. Don’t make a big deal about having them, just let your guests know they are available. The same goes for food. Have some appetizing low-calorie dishes and healthful desserts on hand. Don’t point out that they’re there because so-and-so is watching his weight. Just serve them. You’ll be surprised how many guests enjoy them and comment on what a good host you are.
• If you’re honestly concerned about how the person in recovery is doing, approach him or her privately. He or she might not feel comfortable discussing it in front of other guests. If you’re just curious, keep it to yourself.

     Honoring a guest’s wishes is a sign of respect. Anticipating them in advance is even better. Encouraging someone to eat, drink or spend money when they don’t want to is, at the very least, not gracious. Pressuring someone to partake of something when you know he or she is trying hard to avoid it is a good way to lose a friend. Addictions are not trivial matters. “No, thank you,” is a perfectly good answer. Members of  Alcoholics Anonymous, Overeaters Anonymous and Debtors Anonymous will be especially appreciative if you remember that. 

Enjoy your party.

                               ***

   For recovering addicts, the tools should be familiar, but always bear repeating:

•  Bring a recovery friend to a party.
•  Have phone numbers and your own transportation available if you want to leave an uncomfortable situation.
•  If you’re uncomfortable about attending a party because of who will be there, be it family or friends who are not supportive, don’t go. Politely decline. 
•  Keep track of your drink. If you’re not sure the one on the table is yours, get a new one.
•  When shopping, deal in cash; forget about credit cards.
•  Don’t feel obliged to try every dish on the table. 
• And, again, “No, thank you,” is a complete sentence. Don’t feel obliged to explain and don’t worry about hurting your host’s feelings at the expense of your recovery. There’s always next year.

     Enjoy your recovery.

For more information:

Alcoholics Anonymous: www.aa.org

Overeaters Anonymous: www.oa.org

Debtors Anonymous: debtorsanonymous.org

PS: Don’t be shy about sharing this column with anyone you think would benefit from it. And enjoy your holidays.

rjgaydos@gmail.com

The following is an update of a column I wrote 12 years ago. I am re-posting it today on the 62nd anniversary of the assassination of president John F. Kennedy because of its significance in my life and because of the times we live in. Would things have been different if Kennedy had lived to continue serving? I have no way of knowing. I’d like to think the answer is yes. Joe Biden was the oldest elected president this country has ever had. Kennedy was the youngest. They shared the same dedication to protecting our democracy. I continue to celebrate Kennedy on the birth date I share with him and I also honor his memory on the anniversary of the day he was taken from us. A day history was altered forever.

By Bob Gaydos

John F. Kennedy

 The first editorial I wrote for the Times Herald-Record in Middletown, N.Y., appeared on the 20th anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. I wrote the headline, too: “The measure of the man.” 
      Trying to “measure” the meaning of the life of a man who was literally loved and idolized by millions of people is no easy task, especially for a rookie editorial writer’s debut effort. But that’s what newspapers do and, in truth, I took it as a good omen that remembering JFK was my first assignment. He was a hero to me as to many young men my age when he was elected president. It was a combination of things: his youth, his wit, his easy-going style, his intelligence, his words, his sense of justice. Plus, we shared the same birthdate: May 29.
     As fate would have it, JFK would come to be remembered, not on his birthday, but on the anniversary of his death. And not so much for what Americans received for having him as president for 1,000 days, but rather for what we lost by not having him much longer.
     That first editorial said, in essence, that it would take more than 20 years to measure the meaning of the man. It acknowledged the things we had learned about JFK in the years since the shooting in Dallas — the flaws that made him human — as well as what I felt were his positive contributions. Thirty years later, no longer a rookie editorial writer — indeed, retired after 23 years of writing editorials — with Nov. 22 approaching, I realized I had to write about JFK 50 years after his death (because that’s what old newspaper guys do). Before I started, I asked one of my reliable sounding boards, my son, Zack, what he knew about JFK. Zack was 19 at the time and better informed than a lot of young people his age, so I figured his answer would provide me with a fair sense of what our education system had been telling kids about Kennedy.

   “He was the first Catholic president,” Zack said. Correct. “He had an affair with Marilyn Monroe.” Uh, correct. ‘There’s still some theories that there was more than one shooter.” Right. “Do you think the Kevin Costner movie (“JFK,” directed by Oliver Stone) was true?” Well, the people portrayed were real. “The Bay of Pigs didn’t go too well.” No, it didn’t. I took the opportunity to point out that Cuba was the site, not only of Kennedy’s biggest failure in global affairs, but also his biggest success.

     I was 22 years  old when the world stood at the brink of a nuclear war over the presence of Soviet missile-launching sites in Cuba, aimed at the United States. I was a senior in college and knew full well, as did all my classmates, than no 2-S deferment was going to exempt me from what might happen if the Soviets did not — as Kennedy demanded — remove their missiles. Kennedy ordered the U.S. Navy to blockade Cuba to prevent the shipment of Soviet missiles and equipment. Nikita Khrushchev, Soviet president, who had initially denied the existence of the missile sites, sent a naval fleet to Cuba, loaded with supplies and armed for battle. As the world watched and waited and prayed, Kennedy and Khrushchev exchanged messages. Kennedy prevailed. The Soviet fleet stopped short of Cuba and turned around. I lived to write this remembrance. Kennedy was dead not long after.

     So here I am 62 years later, still looking to take the measure of the man and still wondering how that is possible. Kennedy had the gift of engagement. He appeared to be comfortable with whomever he was speaking. He had tremendous appeal to young people, being so different from the older, stodgier presidents who preceded him. He created the Peace Corps — a legacy that continues to this day with not enough fanfare. He made many Americans — and this is not a small thing — truly proud to be Americans. Not in an arrogant, flag-waving, we-know-better-than-you way. Just proud. And he cheated on his wife and kept his serious health problems a secret from us and sometimes needed to be prodded by his brother, Bobby (another tragic loss) to take the proper (courageous) stand on issues.

      So the question I still ask myself is, what might JFK have done, what might he have meant to America and the world, if he had lived longer? What did we lose at Dealey Plaza? Certainly, whatever innocence we still possessed. The wind was sucked from our sails as a nation and our domestic politics have slowly and steadily deteriorated into such partisanship that it is virtually impossible for any president to speak to the minds and hearts of a majority of Americans the way Kennedy did. Maybe it would have happened even if Kennedy had lived a longer life and gone on to be an ambassador to the world of what America stands for. Or maybe not.

     It dawns on me in writing this that it is an ultimately frustrating task to try to take the measure of another man or woman. I know what JFK meant to me personally. I know a lot of others feel similarly and others do not. I know what history has recorded (he was also the youngest man to be elected president) and what the tabloids have told us. I have a sense of what I would like to think Kennedy would ultimately have meant had he not died so young. But it’s only speculation.

     The only man I can truly take the measure of is myself. It is 62 years since that morning when I was waiting at home to go to Fort Dix, N.J., to begin six months of active duty training. How do I measure up today? That’s a question I still work on every day. It wasn’t always thus, but the years have a way of insisting on perspective. Maybe the answer will appear in some other writing. I have neither the space nor the inclination to do so here. I will say that, on balance, I’ll probably give myself a passing grade, but there’s still some stuff I’m learning. That’s a lesson in itself. For now, I’m through trying to take the measure of JFK, as man or president. Let the historians have at it. I’m going to try to take his advice and ask not what life can do for me, but what I can continue to contribute to life. And I’m also going to continue to celebrate him not on the date he died, but on the date we both were born. 

By Bob Gaydos

Catherine Lucey and Donald Trump

You can tell a lot about people by the way they speak, their choice of words.

Donald Trump has told us he has “the best words”. He has also demonstrated on many occasions that he is willing to use a lot of them in succession to no meaningful message. This suggests, at least superficially, that he is superficial, pretending to be what he is not or, worse, that he is not pretending but really believes what he says about magnets and windmills and shopping at grocery stores.

But this week he gave us a look inside the real man with just four words:

— “Quiet Piggy!”

— “Things happen.”

They were uttered on two separate occasions, both times to female journalists with whom Trump was more than a bit annoyed. Each had dared to ask the important question of the moment, in public and in front of witnesses.

Trump can’t handle this approach. He either explodes, as in the first case, or he lies, as in the second. Both replies were pathetically inappropriate, infuriating and embarrassing for having been uttered by the person occupying the office of President of the United States.

But then, that’s what we’ve come to expect — and far too many still accept — from Trump.

The “Quiet Piggy!” insult was directed at Catherine Lucey of Bloomberg News last Friday aboard Air Force One. As part of a group of reporters, she was asking him why he had not yet released the Jeffrey Epstein files.

“Quiet!” Trump barked. “Quiet Piggy.”

Trump’s well-documented misogynist attitude towards women in a nutshell. If they’re too smart and not appropriately deferential, insult their appearance. He’s done it before. Pathetic.

Mary Bruce

The “Things happen” remark was his nonchalant dismissal of Mary Bruce of ABC News who was asking Mohammad bin Salman, Saudi Arabia’s crown prince, about the killing and dismemberment of Jamal Khashoggi, a Washington Post columnist, in the Saudi Consulate in Istanbul in 2018.

Khashoggi had written articles critical of the ruling Saudi family and the CIA concluded that the prince now sitting next to Trump in the Oval Office had ordered the murder.

No matter to Trump, whose family has several financial deals in the works with the Saudis. He said the prince knew nothing about the killing and scolded the reporter for asking an embarrassing question of “our guest.“

“A lot of people didn’t like the gentleman that you’re talking about,” Trump said. “Whether you like him or didn’t like him, things happen.”

Things happen. Death by dismemberment. The body parts placed in acid. No biggie. A journalist working for an American newspaper. A murder condemned around the world as an attack on the free press. The CIA says the “friend“ sitting next to Trump gave the order. Trump blamed the victim and called the question “insubordinate,” as if the reporter worked for him. He also called her a terrible reporter working for a terrible company and wondered about lifting their license, which is par for the course.

It’s difficult to try to come up with new ways to describe what an insult Trump is to the presidency and what a stain he is leaving on the idea of American democracy. Forget American exceptionalism.

And yes, as an American and a journalist, I do take this personally. I have lived through the presidencies of FDR, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush Sr., Clinton, Bush Jr., Obama and Biden without ever feeling that any of them, faults though they may have had and policies with which I may have disagreed, had so little regard for what the office of president stands for to the average American. Even Nixon. He had the decency to resign.

Decency is not included in Trump‘s “best words” vocabulary.

Maybe the Epstein thing will finally get this little piggy. Hey, things happen.

By Bob Gaydos

The Rapture

    The note on my phone consisted of just three words: “A reasonable Rapture.”

     They were the result of venturing out of the house and out of my own mind to have coffee with a friend. I think they call it a conversation.

      I’m often amazed at what comes out of my mouth when I leave my mind behind. But this, the more I looked at it, it started to make sense.

       What is a reasonable Rapture? I asked myself. Or, more accurately, what would a reasonable Rapture look like if there was ever to be one? Well, that certainly stirs the creative juices.

        The traditional view of the Rapture among some evangelical Christians is that Jesus will return to “catch up” living believers to meet him in the air, while dead believers will be resurrected to join him. The rest of us non-believers will be left behind to deal with the Tribulations.

        Most Christian denominations do not ascribe to this view and the term “Rapture” is not specifically mentioned in the Bible. However, many American evangelicals do believe in it and the concept has been the subject of several books and movies.

        So what would a reasonable Rapture be for me? Being a non-believer in this particular case, I start by assuming I’m part of the left behind crowd. The ones who discover empty clothes lying on the ground where their loved ones or nosy neighbors used to be. It could be a little freaky. No goodbye note, no text, just a pile of laundry.

        In my case, it would be reasonable to believe that my loved ones and a fair amount of my friends would also still be here, scratching their heads, wondering where all the other people went.

        Then, one of the more informed would remember seeing a social media post about some evangelicals who believed in something called the Rapture. Up in the sky. Goodbye. Someone else would remember reading the book or seeing the movie “Left Behind.”

        Well, OK then. Let’s see who’s still here. Seeing as the evangelicals who were believers were also big Trump fans, we could assume that a lot of the MAGA crowd were, uh, gone.

         That’s good. Stress level on the planet should fall by about 50%. That’s reasonable. But what about the Tribulations? Trump would still be around because, for all his kissing up to the evangelicals, everything about him is a big lie. No Rapture for him.

       But wouldn’t it be reasonable to assume that, with all his followers up in the sky flying to their just reward, he would be a cult leader without a cult? That should clear the way for impeachment proceedings in Congress, conviction, arrests on various felony charges, including those connected with the Epstein files, and humiliation on the world stage. Other than Stephen Miller, Pam Bondi, Kristi Noem and Pete Hegseth, who would care? 

    That would leave us with JD Vance as president, which is no prize, but still better than Trump. Vance has zero personality and, with most of MAGA gone, no real following. As someone who has shown he is more than willing to change his opinion and politics and résumé to save his career, he might be more than willing to do so to save his soul. Sounds reasonable and it would give him a great story for his second novel.

     Whatever, he would just be a short term fill-in while political leaders of both parties (but especially Republicans) in this country. start thinking about ways to work together again. I mean, wouldn’t that be a reasonable message from a Rapture?

     The ICE workers, most of whom would likely still be here, could be reassigned to going around the country and picking up all the laundry lying in the streets as part of their prison work release program.

     While we’re at it, those of us left behind might be shook up enough by the Rapture to look around and see other things that needed changing. Like maybe getting rid of the whole health insurance industry and creating Medicare for all in America. Caring more for each other. That seems like a reasonable reaction to a Rapture to me. Maybe a woman president, too.

     I don’t know; I’m still working on this. Have to make another date for coffee. It’s interesting what you can come up with when you apply reason to religion.

Elon Musk dances with a robot after getting his trillion dollar payoff from Tesla.

By Bob Gaydos

If you’re a billionaire, why do you need to be a trillionaire?

This not-so-rhetorical question occurred to me the other day when I read that shareholders of Tesla had voted to give the company CEO Elon Musk a one trillion dollar bonus, salary, gift, whatever you wanna call it simply because he asked for it. In company shares.

This would make Musk, already the richest person on the planet, a million billion times richer I think. It’s hard to multiply all those zeros.

So I ask again, why? And, before I proceed any further, let me give due credit to singer Billie Eilish, all of 23 years old, who inspired this question when she had the presence of mind and maturity to ask a room full of very rich people, including some billionaires, “If you’re a billionaire, why are you a billionaire”?

Really. Why? Eilish, who already has a string of awards for such hits as “Bad Boy,” “Birds of a Feather” and others, with which I am also unfamiliar, asked the question as she accepted an award from WSJ Magazine.

But she didn’t just ask the question; she gave the reason behind it. As she addressed the celebrity-studded audience, she said: “We’re in a time right now where the world is really, really bad and really dark and people need empathy and help more than, kind of, ever, especially in our country. I’d say if you have money, it would be great to use it for good things, maybe give it to some people that need it.”

Umm, yeah. For the record, Ellish who has an estimated net worth of $50 million, also said she is donating $11.5 million of the proceeds from her Hit Me Hard and Soft tour to support organizations fighting for food equity, climate justice, reducing carbon pollution, and combatting the climate crisis.

So, great, now that I have sufficiently buried the lead, what about Elon Musk? Why does he need to be a trillionaire? Why does he even need to ask for $1 trillion? And why do people think he deserves it?

He wants to replace people with machines that will do all the work and thinking they used to do. He spent a couple of months in Donald Trump‘s Oval Office office trying to eliminate every possible job in the federal government, while collecting information on American citizens. He dismantled USAID, cutting off crucial food supplies to starving people. He seems intent on populating the world with as many mini-versions of himself by as many willing partners as possible. All white.

He seems utterly divorced from all the problems of his native Africa and he has been known to throw an occasional Nazi salute. Yet he has convinced millions that he is a genius and also a genius at making money for them. (Sound familiar?) This, even though cars are still not really driving themselves and he’s nowhere close to putting anyone on Mars, curing cancer or ending violence in the Middle East.

The big corporate stockholders in Tesla, perhaps feeling Musk already had too much power and money, voted against giving him the trillion dollar payday, but the retail shareholders felt otherwise.

They voted— 75 percent of them no less— to give Musk up to $1 trillion over 10 years if the company meets a list of benchmarks such as selling 1 million humanoid robots. Again, to do much of the work that those people who voted for the big payday for him now still do.

That presumably would include artificial intelligence writing columns like this informing humans what a wonderful life they have now that they have nothing to do. They won’t even have to worry about “those people“ taking their jobs from them. “Those people” will presumably just go about doing whatever “those people” do. And Musk, in addition to producing robots and mini-Musks, will do whatever trillionaires do. In that regard at least, he really can be a trailblazer.

Paradise will be delivered, overnight by Amazon, courtesy of greed and willing ignorance.

***

(PS: We’re told that Mark Zuckerberg, who was in the audience, did not put a like on Eilish’s comments.)

Donald Trump freezes while others attend to a guest who collapsed in the Oval Office. Photo; Andrew Harnik. Getty

By Bob Gaydos

Freeze!

We had a game we played when I was a kid that involved one person turning his back to the group, closing his eyes, counting to 10 and stopping, looking over his shoulder and yelling “freeze”!

If he saw you move, you were out.

Donald Trump would’ve won every time.

Thursday, a photographer caught the quintessential photo of Donald Trump. Surrounded by a group of pharmaceutical executives and their guests in the Oval Office, the “leader of the free world“ froze when one of the guests fainted behind him.

As others, including Dr. Oz, rushed to help the man, Trump stood immobile, looking simultaneously dumbfounded and irritated that someone had dared to intrude on his spotlight.

As others attended to the guest, Trump stood behind the Resolute Desk, staring straight ahead, unable to show concern for someone in distress. This was someone invited to Trump‘s office, to the house he is in the process of destroying in the name of remodeling. His guest.

Nothing. Clearly, no empathy and no clue what to do. In other situations where he has no clue, which is most of them in his current position, he merely starts talking, rambling, lying, making jokes, making a sales pitch for how he is the smartest, best, wisest, toughest of them all, whoever they may be. But this time he had no words.

And, clearly, nothing in his 79 years on this planet that had instructed him on how to react compassionately to someone in distress.

A statue. Unthinking, uncaring, unfeeling, unbelievably unknowing. Donald Trump, frozen in time for all to see.

This really is who he is, people. His mental capacities have clearly been failing for some time now, but I’m not sure a fully functioning Trump with all his mental capacities intact would have reacted differently. His actions as president demonstrate that he is immune to others’ suffering. Sometimes, he  seems to enjoy it. He just doesn’t care. He apparently never learned how.

He couldn’t even fake it.

***

(The guest, invited by one of the pharmaceutical companies in attendance, reportedly had fainted from the heat in the oval office, apparently a recurring issue. Reports said he was fine after being attended to.)

By Bob Gaydos

     With all the celebrating and hope that welcomed Tuesday’s blue wave election results of Democratic victories, I was rewarded with the best kind of all — a race that was a microcosm of today’s Republican Party approach to governing: Unqualified candidate, lying, deceit. Best of all, it was local. And the Democrat won.

      The Town of Wallkill in Orange County, about an hour’s drive from New York City, has been pretty much a Republican stronghold forever. It’s a bustling town that profits from a highway system and a string of malls that grew up around it. It has one of the state’s busier court systems, providing enough work for three town justices.

       When one of the senior justices retired, Republicans offered as candidate a former councilman who is not a lawyer and has no court experience. For some reason with which I am not familiar, New York State allows this. Democrats offered as a candidate a lawyer with 34 years of experience handling hundreds of cases in Family Court and other courts and who also is a key staff member of the Legal Aid Society. A woman, by the way.

      Hands-down, no contest on qualifications and experience. So Republicans, who control the town board, decided the town didn’t need a third judge after all. Couldn’t afford it, they said. They voted to eliminate the position. This, even though the retiring judge said the town really did need three judges and not filling the position would put an unfair burden on the court staff, never mind the two judges left.

      Republicans didn’t budge. However, the Democratic candidate circulated petitions asking for a special referendum reestablishing the third judge position. It passed. But not before more Republican chicanery. 

      They told the Democratic candidate that the wording of the question on the special election would ask voters whether the town should eliminate the third town justice position. So she paid for lawn signs and printed cards to pass around town urging residents to vote no. Then Republicans decided to change the wording to instead ask whether the town should retain its third judge position, making the Democrat’s election handouts extremely counterproductive.

      She went to State Supreme Court to get it changed back. A sympathetic judge said there was nothing she could do, but hoped that the Republicans would do the “decent” thing. 

     They didn’t. 

      Came Tuesday and, following a few months of intensive campaigning, of all things, the Democrat won. Big.

      That’s not all. Wallkill voters kicked out the Republican town supervisor and a councilman, giving Democrats control of the town board. A veritable local earthquake.

       This story is especially rewarding for me because I lived in the town of Wallkill for about two decades and for nearly three decades worked at the local newspaper that would have reported on this incredible local story, if there was a viable local newspaper left in town.

     But that’s another story for another day. This day belongs to Maria Patrizio, Democrat, newly elected Town Justice, Town of Wallkill, Orange County, New York.

Wait your turn.
RJ Photography

By Bob Gaydos

“Fill the feeders!”

A request? An order?

Either way,

                a reminder.

‘Tis November.

     When nature’s shelves go dry,

Be kinder.