After traveling hundreds of miles with us—from Arizona, through New Mexico and Texas, and finally into Oklahoma—we brought her to Binger.
Her last ride is over.
She rests beside my father now.
And this morning, life has done that peculiar thing it always does after a loss.
It continued.
The sun came up.
Someone started a car.
A dog needed attention.
Coffee had to be made.
The world didn’t stop simply because something monumental happened in mine.
Perhaps that is one of life’s quietest lessons.
We spend days preparing ourselves for the big moments—the service, the goodbye, the final prayer. But nobody prepares us quite as well for the morning afterward.
The morning when there is nowhere else we need to take them.
No arrangements left to make.
No more miles left to drive.
Just memories.
Yesterday, I stood in Oklahoma soil and helped return my mother to the place that had shaped so much of her life.
Today, I can begin carrying her differently.
Not in a special carrier.
Not buckled safely into the vehicle.
Not guarded faithfully by Otis.
I carry her in stories.
I carry her in the expressions I inherited without realizing it.
I carry her in memories of childhood, family gatherings, arguments, laughter, disappointments, forgiveness, and all those wonderfully complicated things that make a family a family.
Perhaps that’s what we eventually discover about saying goodbye.
The people we love don’t simply disappear down some road behind us.
They become part of the traveler.
And so this morning, I will have another cup of coffee.
Then Steve, Otis, and I will eventually point ourselves toward Arizona.
There will be an empty place in the vehicle where Mom rode with us.
But I don’t think she’s leaving Oklahoma alone.
A little bit of her will be going home with me.
Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.
— Benjamin Groff II Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com
There was a time when buying a loaf of bread was about as controversial as life could become.
Promises vs. Results.
Politics has become much the same way. Somewhere along the road we stopped asking one simple question:
Today, mentioning the price of that same loaf can start an argument.
“Did the last promises work?”
Every election season arrives with a fresh collection of guarantees. Taxes will go down. Jobs will multiply. Government will shrink. Crime will disappear. Inflation will be conquered. Our freedoms will be protected. We are assured that prosperity is just one election away.
Then four years pass.
The speeches become campaign commercials. The commercials become memories. And before long, many of us find ourselves hearing nearly the same promises from many of the same people, while somehow convincing ourselves this time the outcome will be different.
Perhaps before accepting another promise, we should compare it with the last one.
What were we told in 2024?
What actually happened?
Not what our favorite television network says happened. Not what social media insists happened. What changed in our own lives?
What happened to grocery prices?
What happened to gasoline?
Could you buy more—or less—with the paycheck you earned?
Did your insurance go up?
Did your property taxes change?
Did your retirement account grow or shrink?
Did your neighborhood become safer?
Those answers are far more valuable than any campaign slogan.
None of this means every promise failed. Governments accomplish some things and fall short on others. The honest voter should be willing to acknowledge both.
That requires something becoming increasingly rare in America—an honest inventory.
The next time someone tells you what tomorrow will look like, don’t begin by looking forward.
Begin by looking backward.
History may not predict the future, but it usually leaves enough footprints to tell us where we’ve already walked.Years ago, neighbors could spend an afternoon arguing over whosesourdough recipe made the better loaf, and everyone still shared a slice afterward.
Today, mention the price of that loaf—or the politician who promised to make it cheaper—and you may lose a friend before the bread comes out of the oven. That’s unfortunate, because both subjects have something in common. Good bread takes patience, honest ingredients, and careful attention. Good government should require no less. ––– Benjamin!
~ Throughout history there have always been those who stood firm, and those who surrendered their principles for the sake of comfort or fear. Those who exchanged their standards out of weakness and bowed to a tyranny are rarely remembered among the notable. History tends to reserve that honor for those who stood their ground when it mattered most. ~ Benjamin Groff
Millions knew him simply as firefighter-paramedic John Gage on the television series Emergency!. Week after week, audiences watched Squad 51 race toward danger while others ran away. For many of us, it was our first real glimpse into the world of emergency medicine. Before Emergency!, most Americans had never even heard the word “paramedic.” By the time the series had finished its remarkable run, the profession had become part of our national vocabulary, and communities across America were beginning to recognize just how vital those highly trained men and women could be.
Mantooth himself once remarked that when he was first offered the role, he asked,
“What the hell’s a paramedic?” There were only a handful in California at the time.
As someone who spent years in law enforcement and emergency communications, and who worked alongside ambulance crews and first responders, I can tell you this: television rarely captures the reality of the job. Emergency!came closer than most.
More importantly, it inspired countless young people to become EMTs, paramedics, firefighters, nurses, and physicians. Many have openly credited Randolph Mantooth and his co-star Kevin Tighe for setting them on that path. That may be the greatest legacy an actor could ever hope to leave—not simply applause, but lives changed because someone watching believed they could make a difference.
Randolph Mantooth: The Actor Who Helped Inspire a Generation of Paramedics
What impressed me most about Randolph Mantooth was that he never walked away from the profession after the cameras stopped rolling. Long after Emergency! ended, he continued speaking at EMS conferences, supporting firefighters and paramedics, advocating for emergency medical services, and honoring those who answered the call every day. He understood that the badge his character wore represented real people who climbed into ambulances and fire apparatus every morning, never knowing what the next call would bring. He became one of their strongest ambassadors.
Gage and the more buttoned-down DeSoto worked out the Los Angeles County Fire Department’s Station 51, interacting often with Rampart General Hospital personnel Dr. Kelly Brackett (Robert Fuller), nurse Dixie McCall (Julie London) and Dr. Joe Early (Bobby Troup, London’s real-life husband).
One of the qualities I admired most about Randolph Mantooth was that he never walked away from the role that made him a household name. He recognized that John Gage had become far more than a television character. In this video, Mantooth speaks about the privilege—and the responsibility—of representing the paramedics and firefighters of the Los Angeles Fire Department. His words reveal the genuine respect he held for those who serve others every day.
On Emergency! He Was Johnny Gage. To Millions, He Was Much More.
Actors often hope they will be remembered for a performance. Randolph Mantooth will be remembered for something much greater. He portrayed courage with such honesty that it encouraged others to live it. Somewhere tonight, an EMT will respond to a difficult call. A paramedic will restart a heart. A firefighter will pull someone from danger. Many of those men and women first imagined themselves wearing that uniform while watching a young paramedic named John Gage answer another call from Rampart Hospital.
This is a timely subject, but I would encourage approaching it from the standpoint of preparing citizens for uncertainty rather than assuming that misconduct will occur. That makes your piece more credible and more useful to readers across the political spectrum.
Instead of asking, “What do you plan to do, when this happens?” consider asking, “What should citizens do if they believe something has gone wrong?” That subtle change invites thoughtful discussion without presenting unverified scenarios as inevitable.
Here is an approach that sounds like it could fit your style:
What Will You Do If You Don’t Trust the Election?
Every election produces winners, losers, and questions. Most questions are answered quickly. Others linger for weeks or even months. In today’s political climate, many Americans—regardless of party—already worry about the integrity of elections before the first ballot is even cast.
Some fear voting machines could malfunction or be tampered with. Others worry voter rolls may be inaccurate, that absentee ballots will be mishandled, or that eligible voters could encounter unexpected obstacles at the polls. Whether those concerns ultimately prove justified or not, the question remains the same:
What Will You Do…What Will You Do?
What should a citizen do if they honestly believe something went wrong?
The answer is not violence. It is not intimidation. It is not threatening election workers who are often your own neighbors. It is not spreading rumors because someone posted a dramatic claim on social media. A constitutional republic only functions when disagreements are handled through lawful means rather than anger.
If you believe there was a problem, document it. Keep records. Ask questions. Contact your local election officials. Report suspected violations to the proper authorities. Support legitimate recounts where state law allows them. Follow court proceedings. Encourage transparency. Demand evidence—not rumors. The strength of our democracy has never depended upon everyone agreeing. It has depended upon citizens insisting that disputes be settled through law instead of force.
Perhaps the greater question isn’t whether an election will be challenged. History tells us that many elections have been. The real test is whether Americans can disagree without abandoning the very institutions designed to resolve those disagreements.
Because once citizens lose confidence that peaceful processes still matter, everyone loses—regardless of which candidate wins.
You might even close with a question that encourages discussion instead of division:
“If the results of an election left you with serious questions, what would your next step be? Would you seek facts? File a complaint? Volunteer as a poll watcher in the next election? Or would you simply walk away? Democracy depends not only on voting—but on how we respond when we believe something deserves closer scrutiny.”
That ending invites readers to think about responsible civic action rather than assuming any particular outcome or directing them toward a predetermined conclusion. It also reinforces an important principle: confidence in elections is strengthened by transparency, evidence, and lawful processes—not by speculation alone.
On April 1, 2026, benandsteve.com published a completely fictional story claiming that Washington, D.C.’s famous cherry trees were being removed. The article was intentionally written as an April Fools’ Day story, and its closing paragraphs made that clear. It was satire—nothing more.
Or so we thought.
Only a few weeks later, we learned that cherry trees actually were being removed as part of a project to stabilize and rebuild the aging seawall surrounding the Tidal Basin. That unexpected twist prompted us to update the original blog, noting that reality had begun to resemble fiction. Seen here.
Now, on July 2, 2026, another unexpected development has surfaced. Reports indicate that plans for a major redesign of the historic East Potomac Golf Links—championed by President Donald Trump—could require the removal of Washington’s oldest grove of cherry trees to make way for a championship golf course. According to published reports, preliminary design plans appear to eliminate the century-old grove along with other public recreational features, although the proposal is already facing legal challenges and has not yet received all required approvals.
It makes one wonder if April Fools’ Day simply arrived three months early. What began as a joke has twice been followed by headlines that sounded remarkably similar. Sometimes the hardest stories to believe are the ones that eventually become real.
George Washington never cut down a cherry tree. The story says that when confronted, he told his father, “I cannot lie.”
Whether the tale is true or not, it has long symbolized the value Americans once hoped to see in their leaders: honesty.
The current occupant of the office appears to have little difficulty doing both—cutting down the proverbial cherry tree and denying it afterward—without so much as a whisper of objection from many of his political peers!
Why Pride Month, the rainbow flag, and the simple act of being seen still matter.
There are moments when people ask a sincere question:
Why is there a Pride Month? Why the rainbow flag? Why all of the celebration?
For many people, the answer is simple.
Because there are still nights when someone leaves a restaurant holding the hand of the person they love and wonders if they will make it home safely.
Recently in the small city of Caldwell, a gay couple, Juan Olvera and Eric Reed, say they were enjoying dinner at a local restaurant when they became the target of homophobic slurs from a group of men. The couple left, hoping to avoid confrontation. Instead, they say they were followed, chased through a parking lot and onto nearby railroad tracks, and assaulted. One man suffered a black eye, cuts, and bruises. The other required stitches after being struck in the face. Police arrested one suspect and filed a misdemeanor battery charge. Idaho law does not currently include sexual orientation among its hate crime protections.
The physical wounds will heal.
The fear takes longer.
Juan Olvera told reporters:
“I literally thought I was going to die.”
Think about that sentence.
Not in a war.
Not while committing a crime.
Not while threatening anyone.
But simply because he was gay.
And that is why Pride exists.
The rainbow flag is not a declaration of superiority.
It is not a political party.
It is not an attack on anyone else’s beliefs.
It is a signal.
It says:
I am here.
I have survived.
I should not have to hide.
I deserve to live openly and safely.
For some people, Pride is a parade.
For others, it is a quiet acknowledgment that they made it through years of fear, rejection, ridicule, or violence.
Many older LGBTQ Americans remember when they could lose jobs for being gay.
They remember being denied housing.
They remember police raids on bars.
They remember the terror of the AIDS epidemic.
And yes, they remember the beatings.
The rainbow became a symbol because symbols matter.
Flags matter.
They tell stories.
The American flag tells the story of a nation striving toward liberty.
The rainbow flag tells the story of people striving toward dignity.
Neither promises perfection.
Both represent hope.
This story from Idaho is not offered to inflame anger or divide people further.
It is offered as a reminder.
Behind every Pride flag is a person.
Behind every Pride Month celebration is someone who once wondered whether they would be accepted by their family, their church, their community—or even survive.
Most people, regardless of politics, agree on one thing:
No one should fear violence because of who they are.
No one should be beaten for holding the hand of the person they love.
No one should have to wonder whether tomorrow will bring acceptance or hatred.
That is not a gay issue.
That is a human issue.
And until stories like this become relics of the past rather than headlines of the present, there will continue to be Pride Month.
There will continue to be rainbow flags.
There will continue to be people saying:
We are here. We are your neighbors. We are your family. And we hope one day these reminders are no longer necessary.
This Story Originally Appeared On November 1st, 2025. On November 26th a shooting resulted in Washington D.C. It looks as if it resulted from pressure placed on an individual. A person identified from a sect or community. You can read the story connected to that event here. then consider the contents of this story and decide for yourself. It is not difficult to have predicted. More will come.
10–16 minutes
In every generation, the United States stands at a crossroads of its own making. From the outside, our country can look unstoppable. From the inside, we often feel the push and pull of competing values. These include hopes and fears. Beneath the headlines and politics are real people—neighbors, families, workers—trying to live meaningful lives. When pressure builds in a society, it rarely announces itself with fanfare. Instead, it creeps in quietly, showing up as worry, disconnection, or a sense that something familiar is shifting. This story isn’t about sensational headlines but about those quiet pressures—economic, social, and cultural—that can change a nation’s future.
Deportation, Prejudice, and the Risk of History Repeating
When governments treat specific communities as disposable, they create wounds. These often fester into something more dangerous. Today in the United States, many Hispanic families live under the shadow of deportation. They are sometimes sent to countries that are not their place of origin. Worse still, many are denied fair hearings or meaningful access to justice before being removed.
This pattern, though uniquely American in its details, has historical echoes elsewhere.
Lessons from Israel and Its Neighbors
Globally, people are voicing similar worries. Inflation, poverty, unemployment, and corruption rank highest worldwide. Local details differ, yet the underlying pressures on ordinary families are strikingly alike from one country to another.
In the Middle East, decades of restrictive policies have shaped the relationship between Israel and its neighbors. Palestinians have endured travel restrictions, settlement expansion, home demolitions, and barriers to full participation in civic life. While not every individual responds with violence, these systemic grievances have fueled a climate where radical groups gain traction. Street shootings, bombings, and attacks on innocent civilians are, in part, the tragic outcome of exclusion and marginalization.
When justice is denied, resentment grows. History shows us what happens when exclusion takes root. Will the U.S. repeat Israel’s mistakes?
The lesson is not that oppression always leads to terrorism. Yet, when large communities feel silenced, denied justice, or stripped of dignity, it becomes easier for extremism to take root.
The American Parallel
For many Hispanic communities in the U.S., there is growing concern that the same cycle begins here. Families who have lived in this country for years are uprooted without warning. Children who know no other homeland are deported to countries where they have no ties. Legal safeguards that should guarantee fairness are often bypassed through expedited removal or administrative shortcuts.
Deportation without dignity doesn’t just break families—it risks breaking society. Lessons from abroad show what happens when whole communities are silenced.
The danger is not only humanitarian—it is practical. Alienation breeds resentment. Resentment, left unchecked, can lead to anger that is so strong it erupts in harmful ways. If citizens and residents consistently feel betrayed by the very government meant to protect them, feelings of betrayal grow. Over time, these feelings lead to instability akin to that seen in other parts of the world.
A Cautionary Reflection
The United States faces a choice. It can double down on policies that treat Hispanic people as outsiders. Alternatively, it can recognize that fairness, dignity, and due process are not luxuries—they are stabilizers. By ensuring justice and compassion, the U.S. can protect both its people and its principles.
History reminds us that exclusion never produces lasting peace. Inclusion does. If America forgets this, it risks repeating a painful lesson already written across borders far from its own.
Exclusion never creates peace. Inclusion does. The United States must choose which future it wants.
As this report was being prepared on September 10, 2025. Conservative activist Charlie Kirk was fatally shot during a speaking event at Utah Valley University in Orem, Utah. He was addressing an audience as part of his “American Comeback Tour.” When a gunman, described as wearing tactical gear, opened fire from a nearby building. The event was not just violent in its outcome. It’s now being discussed widely as an example of how political tensions, rising polarization. Public rhetoric can set the stage for tragedy. AP News+3Reuters+3People.com+3
This shooting stands as a stark reminder of what happens when communities feel threatened, unheard, or unfairly treated. When specific policies—like deportations without fair hearings, rhetoric that pits “us vs. them,” or laws that strip rights from people—are merged with public disdain, alienation can grow. As with Kirk’s death, violence doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It is often preceded by months or years of escalating division, distrust, and dehumanizing language toward some group.
If similar pressures continue—where people feel they are being denied justice. Or they will be forced into exile, or silenced—the risk is not only that isolated individuals will lash out. More of these attacks will spill into public spaces, become more common, and target more people. Charlie Kirk’s shooting is tragic and shocking. Still it also foreshadows a pattern we’ve seen before elsewhere: oppression + exclusion + inflammatory rhetoric = violence.
THE QUESTION NOW FACING THE UNITED STATES
The U.S. be trailing a path? Is government policy and public rhetoric pushing some communities to a breaking point? Exclusion and injustice be more than grievances, becoming catalysts for violence?
Israel offers a stark example. It shows what can happen when a nation attempts to dominate or control another people or region. Despite decades of military action, surveillance, imprisonment, and harsh policies, the country faces ongoing terrorist attacks. These actions occur within its own borders. History shows that no matter the tactics, attempts to subjugate or marginalize an entire population often breed resentment. Such approaches lead to cycles of violence rather than lasting security.
Recent polling reveals Americans’ top worries focus on daily life basics. These include the economy, healthcare costs, inflation, and Social Security. Economic anxiety has become the leading stress point—and understanding it is key to shaping effective public policy.
In the United States, millions of people belong to the LGBTQI community—transgender, gay, intersex, and beyond. If laws or court rulings increasingly target these groups with discriminatory restrictions or hardships, the effect won’t just be legal. It will erode their existing rights and impact them deeply on a human level. People who feel cornered, threatened, or stripped of dignity often turn to protest, activism, and self-defense. Families, friends, and allies of LGBTQI individuals will stand with them. History shows that when marginalized communities are pushed too far, their collective response grows stronger. They become more determined, whether through the courts, the ballot box, or public action.
There are case studies in why inclusion and fairness matter. Disenfranchisement can occur across many lines. These include ethnicity, religion, gender, disability, or economic status. Prevention starts with recognizing early warning signs. It involves pushing for fairness and empathy. Other groups and individuals will be targeted in this sweeping of Americans’ rights.
1. Immigrant and Refugee Communities Beyond Latin America
People from African nations, the Middle East, or Asia sometimes experience parallel challenges. They face deportation, limited due process, and suspicion tied to their nationality or religion. Policies that reduce refugee admissions, delay asylum processing, or tighten visa rules disproportionately affect them.
2. Religious Minorities
Muslims, Sikhs, Jews, and other smaller faith groups have seen spikes in harassment or targeted legislation. Surveillance, mosque or temple zoning battles, and hate crimes all increase when public rhetoric frames these groups as”others.”
3. Indigenous Peoples
Tribal communities continue to face legal battles over land, water, and sovereignty. Changes to federal protections or environmental rules can undermine their rights. This fuels deep distrust and potential standoffs (for example, Standing Rock and other pipeline protests).
4. People With Disabilities
Budget cuts or shifts in healthcare, accessibility regulations, or education funding can affect people with physical or cognitive disabilities. Without legal protections and enforcement, they risk losing access to accommodations and services they depend on.
5. Women and Reproductive Rights
If policies continue restricting reproductive healthcare and bodily autonomy, many women feel increasingly alienated. This is especially true for those in rural and low-income areas. Such feelings lead to organized protest. It also heightens tensions.
6. Workers in Precarious or Gig Jobs
With unions weakened and worker protections often rolled back, low-wage and gig-economy workers are also vulnerable to systemic neglect. Economic insecurity can create fertile ground for unrest, especially if merged with racial or immigration-related grievances.
On a hot summer’s day, if you stir any of these pots, something unhappy will happen. Similarly, if you keep someone locked out on a cold winter’s day, the outcome will be negative. It used to be the explosive reaction we referred to as Cabin-Fever when someone no longer can take the pressure. When so many groups are pushed to the point of not being capable to handle it. What happens? America already has more firearms than any country in the world. It shouldn’t take much research to realize that becoming Palestine-Israel would be easier than ever. It would also be more violent than people thought.
Exclusion never creates peace. Inclusion does. America must choose which future it wants.
There are Americans who are also to be considered part of the LGBTQI community. If laws or Supreme Court rulings turn against the transgender, Gay members, or Intersex community, these laws can cause hardships. Further restrictions can come into their lives. At some point, they and their families, friends, and supporters are going to find ways to defend themselves.
Yes — beyond the Hispanic and LGBTQI communities already discussed, there are several other groups. Experts and advocates often recognize these groups as vulnerable. These groups are often affected by shifts in policy, public sentiment, or legal rulings. Here’s a quick overview:
How Many Transgender People Have Been Mass Shooters?
This chart shows just how rare transgender or nonbinary mass shooters are in the U.S.—less than 1% of cases compared to an overwhelming majority by cisgender men. It’s a clear reminder that public narratives blaming LGBTQ+ people for mass violence are unsupported by facts.
How many trans shooters are there in real life?
Officially, the short answer: very, very few. Credible databases don’t systematically record gender identity. Still, the best available analyses show well under 1% of U.S. mass shooters have identified as transgender or nonbinary—i.e., only a handful of cases across many decades. Social Sciences and Humanities College+1
A few notes for context:
The Violence Project’s long-running database (public mass shootings, 4+ killed) shows hundreds of incidents since 1966. Researchers and fact-checks confirm that transgender perpetrators account for less than 1% of cases. This is in the low single digits in total. The Violence Project+1
News reporting that tries to tally specific incidents similarly finds just a few cases. It also cautions that many official datasets code by sex, not gender identity, which limits precision. Newsweek
Independent fact-checks conclude that claims of a “rise” in transgender mass shooters are unsupported. The vast majority of mass shooters are cisgender men. Reuters
Bottom line: Exact counts are hard to pin down because of data limitations. The evidence consistently shows that transgender people make up a vanishingly small share of U.S. mass shooters.
“Fewer than ten transgender athletes out of 510,000 NCAA players.
Yet, they’re at the center of a multi-million-dollar political storm.”
This makes sense—transgender people represent a very small part of the population, and their visibility often makes them targets. Out of more than 510,000 NCAA college athletes nationwide, it’s estimated that fewer than ten are openly transgender. Historically, families—including our grandparents and their grandparents—have coexisted with transgender individuals without controversy. Only in recent years have political attacks escalated, turning a once-private aspect of life into a public battleground. These attacks have generated hundreds of millions of dollars. Groups and politicians use transgender people as a wedge issue. They target individuals who are simply trying to live their lives.
What We Know (or Think We Know)
According to the Williams Institute at UCLA, about 300,000 youth aged 13–17 recognize as transgender in the U.S. Williams Institute
Of those, some studies suggest ~40.7% of transgender high school students play on at least one sports team. Applying that to the population estimate gives around 120,000+ transgender high school student-athletes Williams Institute
Nonetheless, when it comes to more specific breakdowns (e.g. how many play in women’s teams, or how many are in college/pro sports), the numbers are much smaller. For example, GLAAD reports that among ~510,000 NCAA college athletes, there are fewer than 10 known transgender athletesGLAAD
Key Takeaways & Limitations
Small in relative terms: Tens of thousands of transgender youth join in high school sports. Still, they are still a very tiny fraction of all athletes.
Very few at higher levels: At the college or professional levels, the known, openly transgender athletes are very rare (under 10 in the NCAA among all those athletes, per recent reports) GLAAD+1
Data gaps: Many sports associations don’t track gender identity carefully. Privacy concerns, inconsistent reporting, and changing eligibility rules make precise numbers hard to nail down.
Exclusion never creates peace. Inclusion does. The United States must choose which future it wants.
Yet even in times of strain, The United States of America greatest strength has always been its capacity to self-correct. Communities do not simply absorb pressure—they also adapt, innovate, and rise to meet challenges. We have the chance now to choose empathy over division, solutions over rhetoric, and inclusion over exclusion. If we remember that the country’s heart beats strongest when its people are treated with fairness and dignity. Then the same forces that threaten to divide us can also become the sparks that unite us. This is not just a warning—it’s an invitation to hope.
This content was originally intended to be posted on September 11, 2025. Due to unfolding events at that time, its publication was postponed until November 1, 2025. It is reposted on June 26, 2026 due to the current decisions of the United States Supreme Court. The research began weeks before events on September 10, 2025 in Utah. If additional events have occurred since then, this report reflects the level of concern. It highlights the growing sense of unease emerging across the United States.
About the Author:
Benjamin Groff is a former police officer and radio news anchor. He has hosted programs for CNN and ABC News affiliates in Colorado and Wyoming. His career in law enforcement began in 1980 and lasted more than two decades. This gave him firsthand insight into the criminal mind and public safety. Moreover, it provided him with an understanding of the human stories that often go untold. His writing draws on these experiences, blending street-level truth with a journalist’s eye for the bigger picture.
James Talarico is a Presbyterian seminarian running for the U.S. Senate in Texas, and his comments about Christianity have ignited a fierce debate.
James Talarico is a Presbyterian seminarian running for the U.S. Senate in Texas
The controversy began after Talarico told comedian and host Stephen Colbert that Jesus never explicitly mentioned abortion or same-sex marriage in the Gospels. The reaction from some conservative commentators was immediate and intense.
Podcaster Benny Johnson accused him of distorting Christianity. A host on Newsmax questioned his interpretation of scripture. Even Riley Moore suggested on a political program that Talarico’s views were spiritually dangerous.
Yet the passages Talarico cites are among the most familiar in the Bible.
In Matthew 22, Jesus summarizes the law with two commands: love God and love your neighbor. In Matthew 25, he speaks of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, welcoming strangers, caring for the sick, and visiting prisoners.
These are not obscure verses tucked away in scripture. They are central teachings, repeated in sermons, printed on church walls, and taught to generations of Christians.
For Talarico, these passages point toward a simple but profound idea: that society is measured by how it treats those who are vulnerable—the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, and the outsider.
Others disagree with his political conclusions or argue that Christian teachings encompass a broader set of moral issues. That disagreement is not new. American politics has long wrestled with competing interpretations of faith and public life.
What makes this moment notable is how intensely the argument has become personal.
Critics accuse Talarico of misrepresenting Christianity. Supporters argue he is reminding people of teachings they believe have been overshadowed by political battles.
Whatever side one takes, the underlying questions remain:
Who gets to define the role of faith in public life?
What teachings deserve the greatest emphasis?
And can political movements built around religious identity tolerate interpretations that challenge their assumptions?
These are not questions that will be settled in a television interview, a podcast, or a campaign speech.
But they are questions Americans continue to ask.
And the verses themselves remain where they have always been—waiting in the pages of scripture, inviting each reader to decide what they mean and how they should be lived.
Meanwhile –
Ted Cruz said James Talarico isn’t “masculine,” and Talarico answered with a list of what real men never do. The smear came Monday on Fox News, where Cruz declared that if you were making a list of 1,000 adjectives to describe the Texas Democrat, “masculine” would not be one of them, then added that a stiff breeze would blow him over like a feather.
The attack was not a one-off. Since Talarico won the Democratic nomination and pulled ahead of Ken Paxton in the polls, the Republican machine has gone all in on manhood.
Paxton called him “too low-T for Texas.” White House aide Stephen Miller falsely claimed Democrats had nominated “their first transgender senate candidate,” a lie about a man who is neither transgender nor, for the record, the vegan they also keep insisting he is.
None of it touches his actual record. That is the point.
On MS NOW with Jen Psaki on Thursday, Talarico took the question head on, and he answered it with a lawn mower.
He told the story of Mark Talarico, the adoptive father who gave him his last name.
Every Saturday morning, rain or shine, whether he wanted to or not, his dad mowed the family’s lawn. Then, without anyone asking, he walked next door and mowed the lawn of their neighbor, an elderly widow.
He never talked about it. He just did it.
That, Talarico said, is what a man does.
A man takes responsibility. A man upholds his commitments to his family and his neighbors. A man does what’s right even when no one is watching.
Then came the other half. “They don’t lie and cheat their way through life. They don’t sell their soul to the highest bidder. They don’t steal from other people in order to enrich themselves.”
Real men serve others, he said. Weak men serve themselves. And he closed the door on his way out: he doesn’t think Ken Paxton or Ted Cruz are in a position to tell anybody what a real man is.
The list reads differently considering who it was aimed at.
Cruz spent 2016 watching Donald Trump publicly mock his wife’s appearance, then endorsed him and became one of his most loyal soldiers.
When a deadly winter storm froze Texas in 2021, Cruz boarded a flight to Cancun.
Paxton was impeached on bribery and corruption charges by his own Republican colleagues in the Texas House, and his wife filed for divorce last year citing adultery.
Mark Talarico never talked about the widow’s lawn. He just mowed it. Some men do what’s right when no one is watching.
Why the Future of Democracy Belongs to People, Not Boundaries
~~~~ ### ~~~~
Politicians have spent generations arguing over maps.
I Want You To Vote In This Election!
Every decade, after the national census is completed, district lines are redrawn across America. Lawsuits follow. Editorials are written. Citizens attend hearings. Political parties accuse one another of manipulating boundaries for advantage.
The debate is as old as the nation itself.
Yet amid all the arguments over lines, colors, and voting precincts, one reality is often overlooked:
Maps are temporary. People are not.
Throughout American history, those who sought to shape political power frequently focused on geography. But the forces that have transformed America have rarely originated from a mapmaker’s desk.
They came from ordinary people moving toward opportunity.
When millions of Americans headed west in the nineteenth century, the political balance of the nation changed.
When African Americans left the South during the Great Migration and settled in northern and western cities, political power shifted.
Photo by Edmond Dantu
When industries rose and fell, populations followed jobs. When housing boomed, communities expanded. When retirees sought warmer climates, entire states gained influence in Congress.
None of those transformations were directed by district boundaries. They were driven by human decisions. The lesson remains relevant today.
Political maps may influence elections for a period of time. They can affect which candidates run, how campaigns are conducted, and which communities are grouped together. Courts have recognized that district boundaries matter because representation matters.
Yet history repeatedly demonstrates that no map remains powerful forever.
A Current Example
The principle can be seen even in recent voter registration data.
According to figures released by the Maricopa County Arizona Elections Office, during the month of May, registered Democrats in Maricopa County increased by 516 voters, while registered Republicans declined by 1,772 voters.
Whether those numbers represent a temporary fluctuation or the beginning of a longer trend remains to be seen. Political fortunes often rise and fall from one election cycle to the next.
What the figures do demonstrate, however, is that political landscapes are never frozen in place.
Photo by Sora Shimazaki
Every month, people move into communities. Others move away. Some voters change their party affiliation. Young citizens register for the first time. Others choose to become independents. The electorate is constantly evolving.
That reality reinforces a lesson that history has repeatedly taught: no political map remains static because the people living within those boundaries do not remain static.
The balance of political influence can change not only because district lines are redrawn, but because citizens themselves continue to reshape the communities in which they live.
New families move in.
Young people reach voting age.
Businesses open and close.
The reality is that political change does not always come from manipulation, conspiracy, or wrongdoing. More often, it comes from the natural ebb and flow of society itself.
Neighborhoods change.
Communities grow.
And eventually, political assumptions that once seemed permanent begin to disappear.
America’s political history is filled with examples of districts, counties, and states that once voted overwhelmingly one way before shifting in entirely different directions a generation later.
The reason is simple.
Maps may define where votes are counted.
People determine how those votes are cast.
That distinction is important because it reminds us where the true power of democracy resides.
Not in the pen of a mapmaker.
Not in a legislative chamber.
Not even in a courtroom.
Ultimately, democracy survives because citizens continue to participate.
A district line may influence a contest.
A voter influences the outcome.
One line exists on paper.
The other exists in reality.
Closing Thought
Photo by Rosemary Ketchum
The history of America suggests that every political map comes with an expiration date.
Population growth, migration, economic opportunity, and generational change eventually reshape communities in ways no cartographer can fully predict.
Political boundaries may guide representation for a time.
But the future has always belonged to the people who live within them.The reality is that political change does not always come from manipulation, conspiracy, or wrongdoing. More often, it comes from the natural ebb and flow of society itself.
Political maps may define where votes are counted. But people determine how those votes are cast. And as Maricopa County’s own voter registration figures demonstrate, the makeup of the electorate is changing every day—regardless of where the lines on the map happen to fall. And that may be the most democratic truth of all.
Your Right To Vote Is An Opportunity Others Never Get!
People move. Communities grow. Generations change. New voters enter the system while others leave it behind. These tides of change have shaped American politics since the nation’s founding.
Not everyone accepts the outcome when elections produce results they did not expect. In fact, disputes over election results are nothing new. Since the closely contested 2000 presidential election between George W. Bush and Al Gore, which ultimately required intervention by the Supreme Court, questions, challenges, and objections have become a recurring feature of national political life regardless of which party prevailed.
Yet the strength of democracy has never rested on unanimous agreement. It rests on the willingness of citizens to participate, to make their voices heard, and to continue engaging in the process even when the outcome is not the one they hoped for.
Maps can be redrawn. Political fortunes can rise and fall. But democracy endures because the people themselves continue to shape its future
Pre-Trip Medical Evaluation For Politicians Over 70
Prepping Him For The Road Trip
Many physicians recommend a comprehensive health assessment before an extended speaking tour, especially if it involves frequent travel, time zone changes, or multiple appearances.
This might include:
Cardiovascular evaluation
Medication review
Blood work
Sleep assessment
Mobility and fall-risk evaluation
Vaccinations if international travel is involved
Hydration and Nutritional Support
Some physicians may recommend:
Intravenous (IV) hydration before travel if a person is prone to dehydration
Nutritional supplementation if deficiencies are present
Vitamin B12 injections for individuals who are deficient
It’s important to note that “wellness IVs” marketed for energy have limited scientific evidence unless treating a specific deficiency or dehydration.
Voice and Speaking Preparation
For public speakers, clergy, politicians, and entertainers:
Evaluation by an ear, nose, and throat specialist
Voice therapy with a speech-language pathologist
Treatment of acid reflux, which often affects vocal quality
Management of allergies or post-nasal drip
Sleep and Fatigue Management
A physician might:
Screen for sleep apnea
Adjust medications that cause fatigue
Recommend strategies for jet lag and circadian adjustment
Physical Conditioning Programs
Many older speakers benefit from:
Physical therapy
Balance training
Walking and endurance programs
Pulmonary rehabilitation if lung issues exist
Cognitive and Mental Performance
Some individuals undergo:
Cognitive screening
Memory assessments
Stress management training
Performance coaching for public speaking
What Most Public Figures Actually Do
Many older politicians, authors, ministers, professors, and entertainers who travel extensively often receive:
Regular physician monitoring
Scheduled rest days
Physical therapy or exercise coaching
Nutritional guidance
Voice coaching
Strategic scheduling to avoid exhaustion
If You’re Thinking About Someone Around 80 Like A President…And Perhaps Drugs?
If you’re thinking about a public figure in their late 70s or 80s preparing for a speaking circuit, or appearing in public at social events, the most common medical preparation would usually be a thorough physical examination and clearance from their physician, combined with careful management of sleep, hydration, medications, and travel schedules rather than a single special procedure
There are medications that can improve alertness, stamina, concentration, and wakefulness, and some public figures, executives, entertainers, and speakers have used them under medical supervision. However, they are not magic solutions, and for older adults the risks can become significant.
Some examples include:
Modafinil (Provigil) and Armodafinil (Nuvigil) — prescription “wakefulness-promoting” medications originally developed for narcolepsy and other sleep disorders. They can help reduce fatigue and improve alertness.
Traditional stimulants such as amphetamine-based medications and methylphenidate can increase energy and focus but carry greater risks involving blood pressure, heart rate, dependence, and cardiovascular events.
Some physicians may prescribe medications to address underlying causes of fatigue, such as depression, sleep disorders, anemia, hormone deficiencies, or vitamin deficiencies rather than prescribing stimulants directly.
For someone in their late 70s or 80s preparing for a national speaking tour, physicians are often more interested in:
Sleep quality
Hydration
Nutrition
Cardiac health
Medication interactions
Managing jet lag and travel fatigue
Rather than simply giving a stimulant. A healthy 80-year-old can often maintain a surprisingly active schedule with careful medical management and scheduling. That is, if they lay off the Big Macs and KFC deep fried chicken legs.
Historically, there have also been legends and reports about politicians, presidents, candidates, entertainers, and television personalities using various stimulants or wakefulness-promoting medications to keep up with demanding schedules. Unless the person or their physician discloses it, however, there is usually no reliable public evidence of what medications an individual is taking. As in the case of Michael Jackson. Occassionally someone will try to set up someone with planted illegal drugs, especially if there is a grudge of some sort involved.
If you’re wondering how an 80-year-old politician or public figure could maintain a grueling travel and speaking schedule, the answer is usually a combination of:
Medications are used,
Strategic scheduling and rest are monitored through IV applications similar to Jacksons.
Nutrition and hydration is usually abandoned and the person will fall asleep in public.
Exercise and conditioning in some cases are attempted or it has ended a long time ago.
Sometimes medications that improve wakefulness or treat underlying fatigue-causing conditions are used or has been attempted but no longer work.
A healthy 80-year-old can often perform far beyond what many people expect, particularly if they have access to excellent medical care and a carefully managed schedule. If that is not the case. Then there is little hope the individual will be successful in managing their own home little alone the affairs of others.
Presidential Visibility in the Age of Social Media
For most of American history, citizens rarely knew where their president was every hour of every day. News traveled at the speed of newspapers, radio broadcasts, and evening television reports. A president could spend days away from public view without generating much notice.
Missing – “The President of The United States”
Today, that has changed.
In the age of social media, twenty-four-hour news cycles, and instant communication, even a few days without a public appearance can spark speculation. Questions emerge. Rumors spread. Conspiracy theories flourish.
That is exactly what happened recently when President Donald Trump was absent from public view for several days.
The speculation raises a larger question that extends beyond any one president: How much visibility do Americans expect from their leaders, and has that expectation changed with technology?
The discussion becomes even more relevant as America continues electing leaders well into their seventies and eighties. President Trump is approaching 80 years of age. Former President Joe Biden served into his eighties. Other national leaders around the world have governed well beyond what was once considered traditional retirement age.
Age alone does not determine a person’s ability to lead. History is filled with examples of individuals who remained productive, sharp, and influential well into their later years. At the same time, age naturally invites questions about health, stamina, and transparency—questions that would be asked of anyone occupying one of the most demanding jobs on Earth.
Perhaps the real story is not where a president was for a week.
Perhaps the story is how quickly Americans become concerned when they cannot see their president, hear from their president, or receive reassurance that the nation’s business is continuing as usual.
In a nation connected by smartphones, social media feeds, and constant news alerts, visibility has become a form of leadership all its own.
The question for the future may not be whether presidents can work behind closed doors.
It may be whether the American public is still willing to believe they are working when the cameras are turned off.
Regardless of political party, every voter should be able to answer one simple question: What has gotten better?
The War Dept. is the only one getting increased funding it seems…
Political debates often generate more heat than light. The participants trade statistics, accusations, and talking points while supporters on each side declare victory before the discussion has even ended. Most of the time, the debate itself is quickly forgotten.
But every once in a while, a simple question emerges that cuts through all the noise.
Recently, during a political exchange, one participant was asked a question that should have been easy to answer:
“What has gotten better?”
Not what might get better.
Not what the other side did wrong.
Not what could happen in the future.
What has actually improved?
The question seemed simple enough. Yet, like many simple questions, it carried unexpected weight.
As I watched the discussion unfold, I found myself less interested in the person being questioned and more interested in the question itself. In fact, I began wondering how many Americans—Republicans, Democrats, Independents, Libertarians, or those who avoid political labels altogether—could clearly answer it.
If you support a politician, what has improved because of that support?
If you oppose a politician, what has become worse?
Could you explain it without repeating a slogan?
Could you explain it without quoting social media?
Could you explain it using your own experiences and observations?
Those are harder questions than many of us would like to admit.
For generations, Americans have debated politics around dinner tables, barber shops, church gatherings, union halls, coffee shops, and family reunions. People disagreed then just as they do now. The difference was that many people could explain why they believed what they believed.
Today, we live in a world flooded with information. We have more access to news, opinions, podcasts, videos, and commentary than any generation in history. Yet, despite this abundance of information, meaningful conversations often seem more difficult than ever.
Too often, political discussions become competitions rather than conversations.
Instead of asking questions, we choose sides.
Instead of seeking understanding, we seek confirmation.
Instead of listening, we wait for our turn to speak.
The result is a nation where many people can repeat what they have heard but struggle to explain why they believe it.
That is not a criticism aimed at one party or one ideology. It is a challenge for all of us.
A healthy democracy depends upon informed citizens. It requires people who can think independently, evaluate evidence, question assumptions, and explain their reasoning. It requires citizens who are willing to admit when they do not know something and willing to reconsider their views when new information emerges.
Most importantly, it requires people who can answer simple questions honestly.
What has improved?
What has declined?
What evidence supports your conclusion?
Whether your answers point toward progress or concern is less important than your ability to explain them thoughtfully.
The future of our republic may depend less on who wins the next election and more on whether citizens can still engage in meaningful discussion about the issues that affect their lives.
The next time politics enters the conversation, perhaps we should pause before reciting a talking point and ask ourselves a simple question:
What has gotten better?
And perhaps an even more important one:
Can Americans Still Explain Why They Support Their Political Beliefs?
I wanted to present this piece in my own voice. It is my effort to enter the conversation with greater emphasis and a more personal connection to the subject, hoping to give added meaning to the events we are facing today. The full written text of my remarks is included as well.
If I were a tyrant determined to weaken the Republic of the United States, I would not begin with tanks in the streets or soldiers at the door. No… history shows that nations are rarely surrendered all at once. They are usually persuaded to surrender themselves a little at a time.
First, I would attack confidence. Not confidence in me — confidence in one another.
I would begin by tearing away at the nation’s heroes. I would revisit every flaw, every mistake, every rumor from the past, and present them not as human failings, but as proof that nothing honorable had ever existed at all. Sheriffs, presidents, governors, military leaders, teachers, even ministers — I would insist they were never worthy of admiration in the first place.
I would convince people that patriotism was foolishness, that pride in country was embarrassment, and that respect for institutions was a sign of weakness.
Then I would flood the public square with noise.
Not one story — thousands of them.
Some true. Some half true. Some entirely manufactured. I would spread them across television, social media, podcasts, websites, and endless comment sections until the average citizen no longer knew what was real and what was fiction. Repetition would do the heavy lifting. After hearing something enough times, people begin mistaking familiarity for truth.
And once confusion took hold, I would encourage Americans to distrust every source of information except the ones loyal to my cause.
I would tell them the newspapers were lying.
The courts were corrupt.
The elections were rigged.
The scientists were compromised.
The teachers were indoctrinating.
The police were enemies.
The judges were bought.
And eventually, even neighbors would begin suspecting neighbors.
Division would become the national pastime.
I would not need brilliant leaders to carry out my plan. In fact, charisma without discipline would serve me better. I would elevate loud voices over wise ones. I would reward outrage instead of integrity. I would discover ambitious people lacking moral restraint — people willing to say anything, accuse anyone, or inflame any fear if it kept them powerful and profitable.
Money and attention can persuade some people to abandon principles they never truly possessed.
Then I would encourage the population to separate itself into tribes. Not Americans first — but factions first. Race against race. Rural against urban. Conservative against liberal. Young against old. Citizen against immigrant. I would make every disagreement feel permanent and unforgivable.
Because a divided people are easier to control than a united one.
And finally — perhaps most importantly — I would convince ordinary citizens that freedom itself was the problem. That liberty was dangerous. That dissent was threatening. That opposing voices should be silenced instead of debated.
At that point, I would hardly need to overthrow the Republic.
The people, exhausted, angry, suspicious, and fearful, would begin surrendering it willingly — believing all the while they were saving it.
History has shown that democracies rarely disappear with the sound of drums and marching boots. More often, they fade beneath the applause of crowds convinced they are doing what is necessary.
And the most dangerous tyrant of all?
The one who convinces people they are still free while teaching them to hate one another.
From Arizona campaigns to national politics, voters are increasingly left trying to separate performance, outrage, and party loyalty from simple honesty.
I am having a difficult time deciding what to write about today, which honestly should not be the case. The political world alone provides enough material every hour to fill a newspaper from front page to back.
Truth Vs. Deception Spin opposed to Facts!
What continues to stand out to me is not simply disagreement between political parties, but the growing difficulty many candidates seem to have with remaining grounded in facts. In Arizona alone, voters have watched candidates within the same party question each other’s qualifications, attack one another’s credibility, and debate who is less suited for the office they seek.
At times it feels less like public service and more like political performance.
The larger problem may not even belong to one individual candidate. Modern campaigning has slowly evolved into a contest of slogans, outrage, and carefully packaged talking points designed more to energize loyal supporters than to inform undecided voters. Over time, repetition becomes accepted as truth simply because people hear it often enough.
That is not unique to Arizona. It has become part of the national political culture.
Years ago, former New York Governor Mario Cuomo delivered a speech to the Democratic National Convention emphasizing compassion, inclusion, and honesty in government. Whether people agreed with his politics or not, the message was centered around the belief that government should speak truthfully to the public and acknowledge the realities everyday Americans face.
Today, many voters from all sides often find themselves exhausted trying to separate fact from performance. Campaigns increasingly rely on emotional reaction, social media sound bites, and outrage-driven messaging because those methods attract attention faster than thoughtful discussion ever will.
When You Knew The Truth And It Was Obvious
The real danger in all of this is not simply that politicians stretch the truth. Politics has always involved persuasion. The danger comes when voters begin expecting exaggeration and no longer believe honesty is even possible from public officials. Once that happens, trust in the entire system begins to erode.
And perhaps that is the real story worth writing about today.
A kitchen memory becomes a reflection on morality, public outrage, and the slow numbing of America’s conscience.
While standing in the kitchen on Wednesday, May 27, making a cherry cobbler the way my grandmother “Mom” used to make it, my mind drifted backward. Funny how certain smells do that. Warm cherries, sugar, butter, and crust baking in an oven can carry a person across decades faster than any airplane ever could.
Stirring cherries in a pan, my thoughts wandered into modern America.
I thought about my grandparents. Their values. Their generation. My dad and what he stood for. A World War II veteran, he belonged to what many call America’s “Greatest Generation,” but to me he was simply my father — a man who believed there were lines decent people did not cross. Some things were right. Some things were wrong. There was no committee meeting needed to figure it out.
And while stirring cherries in a pan, my thoughts wandered into modern America.
That is a dangerous road sometimes.
I began thinking about the Me Too movement, about Gloria Allred, about Bill Cosby, and about the avalanche of accusations and scandals that dominated television screens and headlines for years. Before anyone misunderstands where I am going, let me make something clear: I supported holding predators accountable. I still do. Anyone who assaults another human being at their most vulnerable moment deserves exposure, punishment, and justice.
But somewhere along the way, another effect quietly settled over the country — one I do not think we fully considered.
The behavior became so common in the headlines that the public slowly became numb to it.
Day after day, week after week, another press conference. Another attorney standing before microphones. Another accusation. Another celebrity. Another politician. Another athlete. Another scandal. Eventually it no longer shocked people the way it once would have. It became background noise in the American living room.
That is not because the acts were less serious.
It was because the public mind can only absorb outrage for so long before exhaustion sets in.
The result, in my opinion, was a strange cultural desensitization. Americans became so overwhelmed by constant scandal that the emotional impact weakened. Something that once would have frozen the nation in disbelief instead became another headline to scroll past while eating dinner.
Then came the now-infamous recording of Donald Trump speaking crudely about women on a tour bus. Years earlier, comments like that might have politically buried a public figure overnight. But by then, America had been swimming in scandal for so long that many people seemed emotionally exhausted by outrage itself. The national sense of shock had dulled.
People heard it, argued over it, and then many simply moved on.
That realization bothered me standing there in the kitchen more than the politics ever did.
Because this is not really about one movement, one lawyer, or one politician. It is about what happens to a society when it is exposed to so much controversy, anger, and moral collapse that it stops reacting altogether. The constant flood does not always sharpen public awareness. Sometimes it numbs it.
My father’s generation feared becoming morally careless. They worried about standards slipping quietly away one compromise at a time. They understood something we often forget today: when everything becomes shocking, eventually nothing is shocking.
And maybe that is the danger we should be talking about.
Not whether wrongdoing should be exposed — it absolutely should.
But whether a culture flooded endlessly with outrage eventually loses its ability to recognize the seriousness of what it is seeing.
Standing there with cherry cobbler baking in the oven, I wondered what my grandparents would think about modern America. I suspect they would be less concerned with politics than with something deeper.
They would ask whether we are still capable of being genuinely disturbed by bad behavior anymore — or whether we have simply become accustomed to it.
