This Sunday is the first anniversary of the Women’s March. Don’t fret, I’m not writing a commercial. I’m looking at a very abbreviated history of individuals coming together to make a statement.
Rose Ann Miele
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.
For more than two decades, I’ve been getting to know Boulder City folks. I baked, cooked and waited on them at local restaurants. I reported news to them. I served them as foundation director at Boulder City Hospital. I worked as Boulder City’s public information officer. I ran for City Council and continue to be involved in city issues and volunteer organizations.
A healthy planet. Healthy individuals. What more can we want?
Worrying could be a full-time job. You worry about yourself, the kids, relatives, your job — an endless list. There’s no energy left to get involved with city issues, much less volunteer your time. How can you do everything? Why should you?
What makes you so excited that you want to get up and do something? While that’s a matter of individual choice, let’s look at just two examples.
I’ve been sharing this link to the Hoover Dam Gateway plan (http://www.bcnv.org/AgendaCenter/ViewFile/Agenda/_04192017-386) on Facebook. It points to the April 19 Planning Commission agenda packet. To read the plan, you must go to page 113, since it is not a single document.
Money has never meant much to me. Guess I was brought up to think that money was a necessity to pay bills and buy groceries.
The other day, I found something I had written in May 1967. I didn’t believe my eyes. Fifty years ago I wrote that I wanted to do exactly what I am doing today.
I’m old enough to remember a time when adults were the authority on everything. If you were a kid, what you said didn’t really matter, because the adults knew best. As a teenager, this was changing, and authority was being questioned.
Information is tricky difficult to find. Town hall meetings where the public asks questions or even submit items for discussion to be shared publicly don’t take place. Public comments at meetings are limited to five minutes, and answering a speaker’s question or having a dialogue during this five minutes is not permitted. Put this all together, and you have those who believe, correctly or incorrectly, that something is being hidden.
The words “quality of life” have been replaying almost constantly in my head for some time now. What do the words mean to me, to you and to those who do not know us in Boulder City or know each of us intimately?
No beating around the bush. No flowery platitudes about what a wonderful time of year it is.
“Hope needs some help.” I heard that sentence the other day from a talk show host. He added that he is always hopeful but not an optimist. His words got me to thinking.
Kick him when he’s down. Shoot the families. Those people are criminals. Beat the crap out of them. You eat like a pig and you’re fat. I know more than anyone about everything.
