As of today, we have had forty-five presidents lead our country.
Zero women have held that office, and the failed campaign of Hillary Clinton saved us all from just another one of the good 'ole boys dressed in a Brooks Brothers power suit.
In our zeal to show a fake sense of inclusion, we actually put ourselves in position to have Sarah Palin ascend to the highest office in the land.
Yikes.
Every single president has had victories and losses in their administrations.
We say nobody's perfect.
Man or woman.
So why NOT a female Chief Executive?
In the global political theater, women can, and have, proven themselves to be strong and effective leaders.
It's actually kind of embarrassing that the United States of America, espousing equality as one of the core tenets of our Constitution, has never elected a woman to be president.
When, then?
Jojo has come to the end of his run.
Don't get me started about Trump.
If I had my way (and I do as a voting citizen) I would choose a person who has proven to be a straight shooter and is not just willing to spout the company line, but actually get a feel for what We the People (remember us?) want.
I am writing in Liz Cheney.
This woman has more sense than many politicians on both sides of the aisle and is one of the only people to stand up to the horseshit that Trump spews although you can argue rather successfully that this action has extracted her from the political process for all intents and purposes.
So it is incumbent on both parties to groom new young leaders to lead us. It's way more than that; it is a moral responsibility.
In the novel I am writing, I speak of what the world would look like TODAY if only the very first time man tried to cause injury to a woman, she blocked his fist and knocked him out cold?
Here is the prologue.
If Only…
Mark Diaz
The Earth was still an embryo.
Ah awoke in the morning mist which had begun to creep into the cave. She looked at her little one, still asleep and dreaming in the warmth of his nest of animal skins and furs. The fire had gone out well before morning light.
She smiled.
Satisfied her baby was safe, as only a mother knows, Ah rubbed her eyes vigorously and peered out of the cave entrance. Unable to see more than two feet in front of her, she stumbled on either a rock or a slow-moving animal of some kind. She made her way down the narrow path to the pool of clear water, growing larger daily from the waterfall feeding it from above the mist.
The Earth was alive.
All along the rocky path, the ground whispered with multi-colored vapors and smoke. It belched pools of life-producing waters. Cracks and fissures steamed and hissed at her. An emission of hot steam licked at her ankles, and she yipped and hopped as it burnt her. The sounds of life assaulted her ears from every direction: the slithering of snakes through the reeds, the clicking and buzzing of small swarms of insects, and many different sounds from above and beyond, indicating other forms of life.
Ah surveyed the patch of brown soil that Oh had decided was the best and only spot to plant crops.
She wanted to plant further up the path, at the base of a large field of grass. The soil there was dark and rich.
Oh had returned and was holding his son when Ah approached.
Oh was huge. His muscles bulged from everywhere. He was covered in sweat.
Ah could tell by his face that Oh was furious with her. He placed the infant gently on top of the fur skins and turned to Ah.
His eyes filled with malicious intent and hers with confusion which she had never before experienced.
Oh crossed the floor of the cave, shouted something unintelligible, and raised his right fist high in the air over Ah's head.
Ah stood calm and unfazed.
As Oh's powerful fist descended, Ah deftly used her left forearm to block his attempt at injury. As she deflected his blow, she instinctively used her right fist to hit upward at her attacking mate. Her fist struck O directly on his nose. As he fell to the floor of the cave in a thud, Ah tried vainly to catch the huge man so he would not hurt himself falling.
Oh lay semi-conscious on the floor, tears streaming down his dirty face. The blood was still gushing out of both nostrils. He turned his broken nose to see his son, propped up on his fat little arms. He was staring at his father with wide-open eyes and a great big smile on his little round face.
*****
Stay well.
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