Before I sit down to write any commentary, I spend lots of time daily thinking about how to begin. What happened today? What needs addressing? I take so many things so seriously, I end up changing the focus daily. As soon as I submit one commentary, I begin thinking about the next. This one took longer than usual.
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Rose Ann Miele
What is a life worth? More than two decades ago when my kids were young, the answer to that question hit me. Here's a little background: I have never given birth to a child. My son and daughter came to me three days after my husband and I got...
Bullies are mean. Bullies hurt folks. Bullies don't consider the feelings of others. They are self-centered and conceited. Bullies take advantage of any weakness a person might have. My one childhood experience with a bully came when I was about 10...
July 1998. I wrote my first story for the Boulder City News. Since then, I've written for Boulder City publications, and I'm glad I'm still at it. It's been a wonderful, frustrating, exciting, awful, amazing and marvelous learning experience from my...
âYou canât have it both ways.â Youâve heard it. We say it time and again. The recent issue of the âold hospitalâ on Park Street being torn down presents the perfect opportunity to examine this quote. Countless folks have moved to Boulder...
Last Saturday I had the opportunity to be a very small part of an annual event that benefits Boulder City kids. The event was Puttin’ 4 the Kids, sponsored by Jack’s Place Sports Bar and Grill and the Dan Leach Memorial Fund.
There are times during my day when I seriously believe that folks have breadcrumbs for brains. I’m not knocking breadcrumbs since they add to the flavor and consistency of Italian meatballs, but I am questioning what faculties folks use when they should be thinking.
If there is something that distresses me, it’s having a smile or “hello” ignored. Allow me to share my personal observation.
If you ask me if I enjoy my life, I would say, without hesitation, I do. I take great pleasure in living in Boulder City, even though I miss some dear friends and family, my favorite restaurants and the cultural amenities I enjoyed in my birthplace, Chicago.
Attitude … Ask anyone who knows me whether I’m in their “like” or “can’t stand her” category, and they’ll tell you I have attitude. But all of us have it. Some of us simply express it more openly.
Quite often, I get a phone call or an email about a person or a family in need of housing, or a job, or a few bucks to pay the rent or the electric bill, or money to get a prescription or pay a doctor or dentist bill. I’ve even run into folks who needed money to get their driver’s licenses renewed.
There are times, especially during the Christmas season, when I can walk down the street or enter a room and almost reach out and touch the feeling around me.
I spent the first 45 years of my life in Chicago, with only a few brief months living in California and studying in Mexico. I grew up immersed in political activity. There were weeks of nonstop “buzz” surrounding each and every election, so naturally, I thought that was how one was supposed to act during an election. And voting was an absolute must.
“That’s our house,” I hollered. I was referring to our very own City Hall. That building was my home for many years. I often spent more time in City Hall than I did in my own house.
You can disagree with me, but since we’re all human, and we live in societies governed by humans, we should attempt to discuss issues with each other. We won’t always agree, but we should take a stab at learning what we have in common before we refuse to take the time to dismiss each other’s positions.
I don’t know exactly how I heard about Family Promise of Las Vegas, a nonprofit organization that helps families move from the street, or their car, or crammed in with relatives or having the family separated and living in shelters. I do know that as each year passes, this organization and its volunteers bring comfort to many and enrich the entire community.
You know how we go through the day, and then someone does something really stupid, and we get angry? Let’s talk about some of those things.
The other day, while changing TV channels, I stopped when I heard a young woman announce that 60 percent of the American people don’t believe in the American dream. Now before you tell me to fact-check that number, forget about it. I want to take a look at the American dream.
Recently, I had a business meeting with a person who happens to be my friend. The conversation turned to people acting one way in their professional or work life and another way at home or with friends and family.
It never bothers me to share my age. Generally, I don’t think about turning 65, but there are times when it becomes quite apparent that I’m older than many folks I interact with on a daily basis.
Igrew up in a household filled with strong, realistic Italian-American women. Words of praise and encouragement did not flow freely from their lips. They called it the way they saw it, and there were no celebrations for getting all A’s on a report card or being chosen for the church choir. These women were about work and food and guilt.
Since I began working as the Boulder City coordinator of the Nevada Community Prevention Coalition in July of 2013, I’ve been taking a closer, or maybe, more serious look at kids and parents in Boulder City.
Forty years ago this month, I went to a political rally in Chicago at a well-known gathering place called Wozniak’s. Countless Chicago Democrats frequented this bar and restaurant to talk politics and raise a glass or two. If you were a patronage worker or one within the inner circles of the “Daley Machine,” you knew Wozniak’s.