My Vote

Today was the first day to vote early where I live. I stood in line. Standing in line was new to me. I’ve voted since I turned 18. I have never had to wait in line before. Some would say that shows my privilege.

Over the years I have voted both sides of the aisle. I have been a registered Democrat and a registered Republican. I have voted across both of those registrations. Today I am a registered Independent.

Why does that matter?

Hmm, well, for credibility. I have voted across any party lines. I have always voted my conscience.

But, there’s some guilt. I’m guilty of some things. From like a long time ago.

Hillary Clinton. Where do I start with her? I will never forget when she said that she wasn’t home baking cookies. Shortly after, a cookie baking contest was started in some women’s magazine. I was a housewife at the time, and remember cringing. What was so wrong with what she said? Why did she have to be reduced to domestic qualities? She was an attorney. But her comment started a cookie baking competition that continues to this day. She became a Senator, Secretary of State, a presidential candidate, but bottom line is she had to tow the line and give a cookie recipe.

Why do I feel guilty? Because I never forgave her for saying she wasn’t home standing by her man. I never forgave her for standing by her man. She was so much better that. Before, in my opinion, she became corrupt AF.

Then there was Sarah Palin. In my opinion, again, she sold her family down the river. Her daughter, her very young daughter, was pregnant. An engagement was announced, because, well, family values. I remember hating her, at the time. Her daughter was not ready for marriage. The father of her daughter’s baby was not ready for marriage. Time has proven me right, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t need time for that.

Oh, and the vice presidential candidate who campaigned on family values and would have forced a marriage between her very young daughter and her very young daughter’s baby Daddy, is now divorced, or getting a divorce.

She campaigned on family values, meaning no divorce, no pregnancy outside of marriage…

I sympathize for her, as someone who is divorced. I just wish that she wasn’t such an asshole to her kid who was pregnant, who had more kids outside of marriage, because, her kid should know that her parents love her unconditionally, like, even when she does things that don’t fit that “family values” narrative.

For me family values means that I love and accept you no matter what. I think that should be all families, but I can only speak for mine.

So the guilt? I feel guilt because maybe there was some sexism in my thoughts on Hillary and Sarah. Maybe I held them to a higher standard. But I’m a woman. I’m a mother. I expected more from them. Yes, I expected more than I expected from them than men because I believe that instinctually mothers have different instincts. Mothers protect, especially our own.

I voted early today. I had a choice between two white guys over the age of 70. I believe both are out of touch. I believe neither understands what I went through as a single mom. I believe neither understands what most of the country has gone through. Still, I voted, because it is my right. It is my duty.

One day I hope to be voting for president and having to choose between two people who understand me, who understand so many in this country.

One day I hope that my vote is for someone who has lived a life that was not privileged, or if it was privileged that he or she knows what the rest of us have lived, us single moms who have had lights shut off, struggled to feed our kids, and that they know what others who were worse off have lived.

One day I hope to vote for someone who represents the entire country, not just red, not just blue, but ALL of us. Sort of like what the Founding Fathers wrote when they wrote, “all men are created equal,” except they include women. Oh, and people of color.

With Age Comes….?

Today I ate almost an entire loaf of Italian bread. I should mention that it actually wasn’t Italian, it was a French loaf, but, it is the bread I have bought for years, and served when I make sauce. I try to make sauce every week, but life gets in the way.

So. Life.

One day I was in labor, for all of two hours. The next I was dancing with that kid at his wedding. It is still all a blur.

Labor was quick. Colic lasted for a million years. And all the stuff in between? The good, the bad, and the ugly. Yeah, it was all that, but it was beautiful and precious, and I’d give anything to go back.

I was frying up meatballs today and, even knowing it wasn’t going to happen, waited for my son to come in and grab a few. I closed my eyes and smiled at the memory, then got a little teary. He lives 1200 miles away. He’s married. He wasn’t grabbing meatballs even if he wanted to.

It goes so fast. The colic, teaching him to tie his shoes, vacuuming up the cheerios, wiping up the juice boxes, the bedtime stories, the million kisses goodnight, breaking up the fights with his brother, loving the way he always adored his sister, the phone calls from the school, the phone calls from the school, the phone calls……

A week ago I danced with my son at his wedding. He picked a song that I’d play when he was younger. We danced to it often, me, his brother, his sister. It was our song, the song of our family. We danced and then his brother came up, his father, his father’s fiancee, her daughter. And like that it was over.

Today I made sauce. I fried up meatballs and waited for my son to come grab some. I held up my wooden spoon ready to smack him away before putting it down and wishing like anything for another day for him to be here, fighting with his brother, obeying his sister, and just, well, just having one more day of him and them, being my kids, only my kids and nothing else.

I danced with my son at his wedding last week. He’s happy. That’s all a mother ever wants, but, it doesn’t mean that I don’t miss him, all of his childhood, all of the moments that led up to our dance. It came flooding back today as I cooked. And I ate a loaf of Italian, well really French bread.

There is so much to look forward to, but today I was thinking about how fast life goes by. One day they’re babies who never sleep. Then they’re toddlers who are wrecking your house. Next they’re horrendous teenagers, well, I’ll spare you, and then you’re dancing at their wedding, and they’re gone.

Enjoy every minute. Love them. Eat the bread!


There are people I love who also happen to be gay. Times have changed. Unfortunately, not as much as I’d like, but, when I was growing up, being gay was a more difficult thing than it is today. I heard kids I grew up with called the “f” word. Hurling “gay” as if it was a dirty word was acceptable. It was something that could be devastating, especially for those who were not gay.

The Supreme Court is in play right now. I worry about the state of gay marriage. Honestly, it isn’t just gay marriage. I’m worried about the LGBTQ community as a whole.

I’m divorced. I can remarry. I can get divorced and remarry again. It would be completely legal. No Supreme Court justice will change that. But my friends who are gay may not have the same legal options that I have, to make poor relationship choices.

The transgender community, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about them. One of my kids had a trans friend. I worked with trans kids. You want to see heartbreak? Go talk to a trans kid who has been cast out of their family because of how they identify. You don’t have to understand transgender. You don’t have to like it. But, I promise you, they don’t face an easy road. And it isn’t just about which bathroom to use.

For those who claim religious reasons, well, I’m going to ask, first, as an American, what about the separation of Church and State. Why does your religious belief have more weight than what a person feels in their heart? Then I’m going to ask about your God. What God would have you cast out any person’s heart?

Last I checked, people in the LGBTQ community are paying the same taxes that I pay, maybe more. Unalienable rights, aren’t they for all of us, not just those who fit in some box that some consider normal?

I have so much to say about this topic, but most important is that I’m scared AF about a new Supreme Court Justice who may push the LGBTQ community back into a closet, or, God forbid, make some things illegal. Or, even worse, allow conversion camps. I don’t think anyone who thinks conversion camps are acceptable truly understands the message Christ or whatever God they claim to worship.

I have sinned. Jesus, I have sinned quite a bit. I don’t think my sins are any more holy than anyone in the LGBTQ community.

We need to figure out how to separate some of the BS. We don’t have to agree on everything, but the LGBTQ community pays taxes, just like I do. They have rights, or should. And God, the God I believe in, loves them, just like he loves me.

Let’s not let their rights get taken away. We can’t push people back into the closet or allow them to be made “illegal.”

If you love America and the freedoms that America provides, those freedoms should be for all, not just those who fit in a perfect box, because none of us fits in that box! And if you want to use religion, I’d hope you’d know that your God, no matter who He is, loves us all.

There are people I love who happen to be gay. We live in a divisive time. I want the people I love who happen to be gay, to be afforded the same rights as me. I want them to be part of the whole equality for all thing. I mean, all should mean all, right?

COVID and the Single Girl,I mean Woman

My kids have recently reminded me of my single status. It is a status that I have been very comfortable with. I mean, I haven’t been a nun, but, I haven’t really been out looking. And then my daughter decided that I should try online dating.

Please spare me the “I met the love of my life on Match” stories. I’m sure it has happened. It is just not my thing.

Still, I tried it. For less than a week.

I was asked to be part of a throuple, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but, yeah, thank you, no.

There was a man who was annoyed he had been kicked off of Tinder. He didn’t elaborate. Thankfully.

Nothing else stuck.

My friend decided that I should stick with it, but I had already closed my account.

Meeting people has never been an issue. I say that as someone who has been single for over ten years. Sure, it has been happily single, but maybe I’m reaching that point where I’m thinking it would be nice to not be single. Not in a desperate way. And, definitely not in a settling kind of way.

But COVID. It has added a new dimension. So where a responsible adult once asked a potential “partner” to be tested, now are you supposed to ask a potential date to provide a COVID test result?

I have been happily single for a long time. The quarantine hasn’t made me question it as much as it made me take stock. My kids wanting to put me “out there” has sort of been a wake-up call.

Maybe it’s time. Maybe I’m finally ready. So how do I do it in COVID? Hmmm.

Quarantines, Exes, Exes, Quarantines

This quarantine sucks. I know I’m not the only one tired of being stuck in the house. Even with phases moving us into a little foray into Home Goods, we’re still basically locked down. The hard part is, well, there are a lot of hard parts, but the part where I can’t go to work or the gym or to a restaurant, or any of the things I’d go do to not be sitting home dwelling, well those are hard parts. And obviously going without mani/pedis and hair and eyelashes, well, as superficial as it sounds, those were killer! But the real hard part, I mean, next to the hard part of being stuck at home, bored out of my mind, or AF, as the kids say, and having nothing else to do but entertain the inevitable text that comes from the ex that I had been very successful at forgetting. Even worse? Actually being the one to send the text. Yeah. That was me.

And I get it. The whole ex business is nothing new. We’ve all been through it. There are bigger things to worry about right now, but since I moved to a place that’s not in the nails  and eyelash stage, this is where I’m at.

So. I LOVE my alone time. As in LOVE. I love being home, writing, doing work, looking up stupid stuff on the internet. But I also LOVE human interaction. I don’t just mean in the romantic sense. I need to see people I care about, my kids, my friends, people I work with, acquaintances, strangers on the street, PEOPLE! Being locked down was necessary. I accepted that. Still, I was climbing walls.

I was good though. I only sent crazy emails and texts to a minimum amount of people. I did some Facetime drinkfests. I online shopped, like a pro. I made a playlist that seamlessly moves from Tom Petty to Clapton to A Boogie. Oh, and somehow in the midst of all of this, I found a really great place that I am in the process of moving into. Basically, I was taking lemons and, well, you know.

And then it happened. The outdoor dining phase and a new local dive bar that brought back some memories and there I was texting someone that, well, I never disparage exes, especially on the internet, but well, someone that I’m better off leaving in the past. And true to form, he was, well, he was him.

He was him and I wasn’t surprised, but it made me wonder about the future. I mean, how long is this going to go on? The thought of meeting someone new during COVID? Yeah, no. But how long before it is all over and I can get my groove back. (Thank you Stella!)

Where are people discussing this? Most of my friends are married so their main issue is too much time together or toilet seats being up or down, not wondering the next time someone is going to curl their toes or how long before the first kiss or, well, how many dates before you know… Btw, its been a while, so I’m cutting that number down! Like way down.

Numbers are spiking. People have died, are still dying, that’s important stuff. I get it. But I want to kiss someone. I want romance again. I want to be able to go out and have fun and laugh and flirt. Safely.

I’ll get over the stupid text I sent. I knew it was a mistake even before I hit send, which, btw, I did anyway. I just miss life pre-COVID. I, like everyone else, just want it to be over, and in the past, like the romances that just didn’t fit.



The New COVID-19 Normal

Today I put on my facemask and gloves. I hate writing that, but it is what I did before going into a store to buy things like soap, shampoo, toothpaste, food, toilet paper, oh, and a luxury item, a Kit Kat bar. Well, because sometimes when you’re locked away from everything, you could use a little wafer mixed with chocolate.

I’m not a selfie kind of person, but I took one because it felt beyond ridiculous that I had on a mask, gloves…, well,  this seems to be the new normal. I’m not sick, but I had a slight tickle and I popped mints into my mouth because the thought of coughing in a store, even into my mask, well, I would rather have run naked down the street than cough in any public place.

There are lines to get into stores. People were lined up around the block to get into a Costco. Others were lined up, down the block, for a local storefront. I felt guilty for driving away. As a pescatarian, I shop a little more frequently and felt some guilt that I was not ready to get in a line for anything.

More important than food is human contact. God, how I miss it. I miss hugging my kids, my friends, the people I work with that make up my day, that I love. I’m tired of Facetime and text messages. I want to hug people, to go out with them, to, well, I’m single, so other things too.

I’m going to bed tonight saying prayers about our future, because what else do we have? Our president is conducting press conferences based on ratings. My governor is having a pissing match with the mayor of NYC. Where does that leave the rest of us? They’re all fighting each other and their messages are mixed. So what about us, the regular people looking for guidance?

So I stay at home. I get in my car and take drives, with my windows up, because I still need to get out and see things like the ocean and trees and, well, stuff. And then I feel bad because I realize that there are so many locked in who have no place to go and see and escape.

After I masked and gloved up, I sprayed some Lysol all over my steering wheel, my seats, me, the air. And then I put wishes and love out into the Universe. I have no answers. I am only one person living this, just like the rest of you.

All I know is that I don’t want this to be the new normal. I want all of us to be able to shop for non-essential items like dresses and shoes and go get eyelashes and manicures and Kit Kat bars. I want us to be able to drink and eat with our friends in groups of 50 or 100, and go wherever the f&#k we want, because this is America and that’s what we do. And especially in New York because nobody tells us what to do. EVER!

For now, though, I’m masking up. I’m putting on gloves. And I’m loving my kids, my family, my friends, even those I don’t like so much, from a distance. And I’m saying prayers that there will be a cure, a vaccine, something because there has been too much loss, too many suffering.

We will get through this. I truly believe that. I can’t believe anything else. Stay home, but go out and look at the sky, the stars, the sunrise, the sunset. Do whatever it is that you need to do to flatten this curve so that we can go back to normal, a normal that is not this new normal.



Today was Easter, our first one in lockdown. I did a drive-by birthday parade for my brother with my siblings. I cooked some fish. I wished some friends a happy. I went on social media and liked a few things. And then I sent a text to a kid, well, he’s not a kid anymore, but he’ll always be a kid to me. He grew up in my house.

Not long ago I was told that he wasn’t doing so well. I was given his new number. We texted. I told him that I love him, that he will always be the kid who grew up in my house, my kid, the kid that I love. That is so true. He is beautiful. My wish is for everyone to see what I see, even knowing that many of you won’t. It hasn’t hit you, thankfully, so you may not understand, though I wish you could understand, while being thankful that it has not affected your family.

Wait. It probably has. In some way. You just don’t know it.

Anyway, this kid, who is not a kid, and I had a beautiful exchange. I cried. It was that beautiful. And then life went on. As it does.

So today was Easter. I watched a parade across the street. Well, my neighbors’ kids showed up to wish a Happy Easter while social distancing. That was actually what gave me the thought to do the birthday parade for my brother. It was also what prompted the text to the kid, not such a kid anymore, that I love.

The text came back. As in the number wasn’t working.

A million worse case scenarios filled my head. I panicked. I wondered how I could get from New York to Florida to hug him, to tell him I love him, even if I knew it wasn’t about love. I regretted never meeting his young daughter, the absolute picture of him.

This lockdown sucks. I get that it is necessary, but it sucks. Still, I have taken this time to think, not just about all of the things I’ve failed at miserably, but to think about the people I love and how maybe I need to love them more or, at least, show it better or more, even if it changes nothing.

A little girl just turned three. She is beautiful. She is innocent. She has her father’s face, a beautiful face. I have never met her, and that breaks my heart. He grew up in my house. Like one of my kids.

We’ll get through COVID-19. I just know it. When we do, I hope that we’ll start looking at addiction. It hits all of us, even those who don’t think it does.

Easter 2020 sucked, not just because we are all in lockdown. This country has ignored the opioid crisis, the way we ignored Corona, at least initially. People still argue that it is a parenting issue, a moral issue, all sorts of bullshit. I’m not even going to get into the Sackler family. That’s an issue I am still trying to wrap my head around.

I want us to get through this pandemic. But then I want us to focus on the kids, our kids, the adults, all of the people who are struggling with addiction. It isn’t just the weak or those lacking morals. You can say I was a shitty mother. I don’t care. I’ve never cared about what people think about me. This is an issue that is bigger than all of us. It isn’t just my kid or my kids’ friends.

A kid I love messaged me last week. It was beautiful. It made me cry. I couldn’t reach him tonight. That made me cry harder. You don’t have to understand that.

People are dying from COVID-19. Let’s fix that. Then let’s fix something that has been affecting us, even those who think they’ve escaped it.

People are dying. Families are being destroyed. From addiction. Let’s fix that. Let’s get through COVID-19, and then lets deal with that other pandemic that has been sweeping our nation. Let’s deal with addiction.

Life in Quarantine

It is only day 587 of this quarantine. My liver is probably gone. I’ve done some questionable things, from a social distance. And I’ve taken time to reflect on my life. Yeah. Great stuff.

First I will say this one thing. Thank God this shit didn’t happen when my kids were younger. I miss them being young. I miss little hands and sweet moments, but, how I thank God regularly that I’m not locked in a house with three little ones, two of them who thought that they were part of the WWE. Oh, and the constant eating, the peeing all over the bathroom, the never wanting to go to bed, and the mess. I’m not a neat freak, by any means, but the friggin mess. Thank you, God, for holding off until they were adults.

Second first. I promised myself that I am not going to end up on My 600 Pound Life at the end of this and have made a point to run, walk, bike, and do some form of exercise every single day. Yeah, with a mask on, even if our federal government hems and haws on whether or not that is necessary. And my essential grocery runs involve no junk food, just liquor. That’s a serious concession.

Anyway, since there isn’t really much to do I’ve been paying attention to social media. Dads are drinking and high fiving and basically enjoying life. Moms are questioning every minute of their day. Is it ok that I didn’t make breakfast? Is it ok that I let them eat cereal for dinner? What if they didn’t brush their teeth? And it makes me cringe.

Moms, stop questioning yourselves. We’re all in the same boat. Well, except those of us who were lucky enough to not be living the Terrible Twos and teenage years during this shit. But basically those of us with older kids, at least those of us who aren’t assholes, will tell you to relax. Let them eat dirt for dinner. Who cares? They’ll survive. Go have a glass of wine, or eight. Go get laid. No, don’t break quarantine. I’m talking about those of you who have a husband or partner that lives there. I mean, married couples have been practicing this social distancing thing for years, but there’s some of you who still want a little. Go get some.

We’ll get through this. Those of you with toddlers and adolescents and even teenagers will love your kids again. They’ll grow up to love you, pee in the toilet, and actually do other productive things. I promise you. Mine have and you don’t know the horror that some of mine put me through.

For now, I’m working in leggings. I just ordered a new pair and they’re everything. But I also know people who have suffered loss, tremendous loss, and I’m grateful that my loss is about superficial things like eyelashes and nails. I’m healthy. My kids are healthy. And right now, that’s bonus stuff.

So take a breath. Do what you need to do to get through this. Be kind to yourself. Give yourself a break. Forgive yourself for having a meltdown. This is new for all of us. We’ll get through it. And know that there are people out there who care.


Note – If you need help, it is out there. Please call.

Getting Through Corona

There is a possibility that I was wrong. Mark down the date because I am never wrong. But this Coronavirus, well, it got me. No, not as in I have it, but that initially I wasn’t worried. Oh, btw, I still want addiction to get attention like this, but for now, I bow down. Coronavirus, you have humbled me. Still…

First, I’m fortunate to be able to work from home. It is a huge pain in the ass video conferencing all day, writing reports that get presented remotely, and then dealing with my other responsibilities. 

I miss my friends, my work friends, my home friends, my friends who have found their way into my life through different means. I love our Facetime drink fests and my friend who showed up to hang out six feet apart, in respect to social distancing. I love my friends who have texted and emailed, well, just have found ways to be a presence. They remind me of how blessed I am to have a circle, a sort of large circle, of people who are my people, who love and accept me no matter what. I wish for everyone what I have because I have it good.

Since I’ve been a shut-in I have paid attention on social media. I have watched on different platforms as moms apologize for who they are, what they are. As if any apology is necessary. This is new to all of us. We’ve never done this before. Yet moms are apologizing as if there is some handbook that gave us all the rules. That blows my mind.

Moms, stop apologizing. Dads too. As parents there is no quintessential guide. It doesn’t exist. We all know parents who did everything right and had little Johnny turn out to be the biggest fucker on the face of the planet. (Um, not me, but, um). We all know parents who did everything wrong and their little Johnny is now a Rhodes scholar or some shit like that. And, btw, what was right and what was wrong? Do any of us really know? If you say you do, you’re an idiot and a liar.

We’re all on lockdown. At least, we all should be. My kids are older so thankfully I’m not homeschooling my own kids. What a nightmare. None of us chose that. If we had, our kids wouldn’t be off from school right now. But we need to give ourselves a break. This is new to all of us. All of us. 

So your kid wakes up and confuses the fact that he’s not in school with the fact that he’s not in school. HE’S NOT! I’m not saying don’t get down to business, but take the blessing in this. Make some pancakes. Lie in bed together and watch some stupid show or a bunch of stupid shows. You’re never getting this time back, whether you have Corona or not.

There has been a movement to change things in schools, to get away from some of the testing. Now is the time to do all of the things that are important. Love your kids, even when you hate them. Lie in bed, bake brownies, burn the eggs, whatever it is that means you are spending quality time with your kids, do it. And then Facetime your friends and drink, because you deserve that too. But stop beating yourself up.

This is new to all of us. We’ll get through it. And when we do, let’s give the attention we gave Coronavirus to some of the other things that affect our kids, like addiction. First though, let’s get through this, without beating ourselves up.


Coronavirus and Addiction

Addiction was in my rearview. At least I thought so. Everyone is talking about Coronavirus right now. No disrespect to anyone, but that will be sorted out, and our kids will still be addicted. And yeah, people will make money from Coronavirus, but not like they will off of the opioid crisis. Sackler family, I mean you. And a lot of others.

I’ll never forget the denial. Yeah, so much denial, because if you haven’t lived it, you cannot possibly imagine. Denial is your best friend. Nobody wants to believe that someone they love, their kid, kids who were like their kids would steal from you. I mean, you give them everything, and then things disappear. Little things at first. Little things like spare change, dollar bills, change jars. Then it becomes bigger things. I’m aging myself, but, VCR’s, video game consoles, I don’t know, things that are now outdated. Of course, there’s also jewelry, money, etc.

So the denial was big, like, oh maybe I didn’t just take $100 out of the cash machine. Or, maybe I threw out that game console. Even while the reality is that you didn’t, and you know it.

So recently a kid from my neighborhood posted something on social media. He’s in recovery. He wishes that people talked about it. He wishes that people talked about it back when he was in high school, and an addict. He wishes he hadn’t lost so many friends to it. Oh, his high school was denying that there were drugs in the school even while many of the students were in some form of treatment service. 

Then there’s the kids that I have loved since they were way high, as in height, not feeling groovy, kids who are no longer a part of my life, not because that’s how I want it, but because that’s the nature of addiction. There has been loss, too much loss. But there has been a different type of loss, like the kids who grew up in my home, kids I loved, loved like they were a part of my family, because they were, always will be.

I don’t know where all of them are now. I often wonder when I go to a funeral, when I hear of an arrest. I do know some were recently in jail. Some have relapsed. And I’d give anything to go back to when they were sitting in my living room laughing about stupid stuff and eating pizza and teasing each other and, well, back to a time when my living room was filled with love.

I’ve seen some at funerals and hugged them, and hugged them again and told them I love them, because I do. But love is not a cure. If it was, there’d be no crisis. 

The Coronavirus doesn’t scare me, maybe because nothing is scarier than watching a kid you love go from blue to pasty white as he is overdosing, praying that the ambulance gets there with a Narcan shot and he doesn’t die. Nothing is scarier than going to bed at night and not being able to sleep because you’re getting up every ten minutes to check breath. Nothing is scarier than what becomes a daily routine of, well, just being grateful that there are no funerals to attend to this week. And nothing is scarier than the denial from all of the people who don’t live it who think it is just a matter of you saying no to your kid. Or the people who supposedly love you and your kid who have lots of helpful advice like, “just tell him no,” or, “Did you take away his Playstation?” Those people are assholes, by the way.

Addiction was in my rearview, so I thought. It’s never really there. I wish addiction and overdoses got the same attention and response as the Coronavirus. It deserves it. Screw anyone who says one is voluntary and the other is not. Kids are dying. Kids I loved have died. 

So find a cure or vaccine for Coronavirus. But let’s not forget those others, the kids, our kids. They’re dying too, at greater rates. Yeah, that last line isn’t scientific, but it’s true. For the kid from my neighborhood who wishes people would talk about it, here I am. I talk about it. I write about it. I scream about it. Addiction is not a choice. Our kids are dying. 

Worry about Coronavirus. But when that’s taken care of, which we know will happen, let’s get back to worrying about all of our kids who are addicted and dying. They are my kids,  your kids, all of our kids.

Oh, and it shouldn’t have to be a choice, but we live in a world where attention matters, perception matters. I’ll leave it at that and say, please cure Coronavirus, and please, find a cure for addiction. In the end, the bottom line will be money. Who is making it.