A Rhetorical Question

2F163B24-41FA-41C7-AA25-6AC9CE320F15The above headline showed up on my iPhone’s newsfeed last night.

Amid the coronavirus pandemic that has infected more than 2.5 million Americans and killed close to 128,000, and with new cases continuing to surge — as of yesterday the U.S. had hit a new record for daily coronavirus cases — Donald Trump has asked the Supreme Court to overturn the Affordable Care Act (aka Obamacare), telling the Court that “the entire ACA must fall.”

Trump has pledged to follow through on his 2016 campaign promise to overturn Obamacare, a program that expanded by more than 20 million the number of Americans with health insurance, despite the ongoing pandemic. The White House brushed aside concerns about how dismantling Obamacare during the pandemic could worsen the crises, saying, “A global pandemic does not change what Americans know: Obamacare has been an unlawful failure and further illustrates the need to focus on patient care.”

Is that really what most Americans know? Of course not. In fact, the popularity of Obamacare is at an all-time high. Around 55% of Americans support the ACA. Most Americans are against the dismantling of Obamacare. Especially since Trump and the GOP have yet to come with anything that would be better than Obamacare.

What kind of sadistic bastard is Donald Trump to want to get rid of Obamacare when America is in the throes of its worse health crisis in 100 years?

That’s a rhetorical question, by the way.

Friday Fictioneers — The Eggman

48DD88C3-A8CE-4EFD-8F86-6393E6DB88F5When asked why he did it, Raymond Mason, a long time resident of the community, explained that the neighborhood was going through some tough times. “A lot of folks here have lost their jobs due to the pandemic. They’re having a difficult time making ends meet. So every morning, just as the sun comes up, I put a carton of hardboiled eggs on my window sill and invite people to take what they need. It’s the least I can do.”

There were no eggs this morning on the window sill. The man they called “The Eggman” passed away last night.

(100 words)

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Todd Foltz

Fandango’s Friday Flashback — June 26

Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of you earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year.

How about you? Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year? You can repost your Friday Flashback post on your blog and pingback to this post. Or you can just write a comment below with a link to the post you selected.

If you’ve been blogging for less than a year, go ahead and choose a post that you previously published on this day (the 26th) of any month within the past year and link to that post in a comment.

This was originally published on this blog on June 26, 2017.

Locally Grown

IMG_2367Pointing to a box full of zucchini on the table, Sara asked the teenage girl standing in the corner of the booth at the local, outdoor farmers’ market, “Are these zucchinis locally grown?”

“Yes,” the girl responded. “Everything at this booth was grown at our local family farm.”

“Just how local is your family farm?” Sara asked.

“Our farm is about ten miles south of the city,” the girl answered.

“Are they organic?” Sara asked?

“Oh yes, our farm is one hundred percent organic,” the girl said, beaming.

“How fresh are these zucchinis?”

“Just about everything we bring to this farmer’s market was harvested within the past week.”

“Just about?” Sara queried, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical manner.

“Well,” the girl said, “some items may have been picked or dug up before this past week, but most are from this week.”

“Most? What about the zucchinis?”

“Yes, I believe they are from this past week.”

“You believe?” Sara said. “You don’t know for sure?”

Starting to get flustered, the teenager stammered, “I, I, I’m pretty sure.”

“Were these picked yesterday? Friday? Tuesday?”

The girl made a barely audible groan. “I’m sorry, I don’t know precisely what day these zucchinis were picked.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, young lady,” Sara said in a rather loud voice.

The girl’s father, who was at the other end of the booth loading more produce onto an adjoinng table had been quietly watching what was unfolding. He walked over to his daughter’s side. “Is there something I can help you with?” he said to the woman.

“Yes,” Sara replied. “I just want to know how fresh these zucchinis are and this insolent little girl doesn’t seem to be able to answer my question.”

“I’m so sorry that my daughter was unable to help you,” the father said. “Here, I’m going to give you this zucchini for free as a gesture of goodwill.” He handed her the largest zucchini from the box.

“Thank you,” Sara said.

“No problem,” responded the father. “And if you really want to know how fresh that zucchini is, why don’t you simply stick it up your ass?”

This post was written for today’s one-word prompt: Local.

FOWC with Fandango — Baby

FOWCWelcome to June 26, 2020 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “baby.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

The issue with pingbacks not showing up seems to have been resolved, but you might check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.