Tag Archives: immigrants

PASSIONATE WOMEN

“Enjoy it, while you can!”

never makes sense

to young ones whose only goal

is to get old enough to let life unfold

on their own.

Until, they are old enough to love.

Then, as the old ladies foretold,

“Enjoy it, while you can!”

I see those women still.

Still young.Still passion filled.

Still yearning for more, and amore.

They gathered for morning coffee

on the screened-in porch.

Pulling me within

by their passion, a torch

to light my way

to womanhood, day by day.

They were all related

by marriage and by blood,

or paesans from villages abroad.

They formed a sisterhood

from marriage to widowhood.

They aged, yet, their passions still raged

at husbands whose passions had been spent

on youthful challenges and endeavors

they embraced as leavers

to lift their families higher

than an immigrant could aspire.

Worn out before their time.

Passions worn too thin

to please their wives.

“Enjoy it, while you can!”

Ah! Now, I am finally

old enough to understand.

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GRIEF LINES ABOUT THE BROW

GRIEF LINES ABOUT THE BROW

1-15-2022

I held grief at bay

in tightened fists

determined not to allow

its escape, until I lay

it down upon the page,

Where it sapped my strength.

Taking up the pen

is little help today

when the nib etches lines

of grief about my brow,

too close to allow the flow

of ink upon the page.

Democracy means more to those

More recently saved upon its shores.

The lands of autocrats and hypocrites,

we thought, had been left

behind, beyond our pained sight;

now resurrected by the Republican right.

A Right reinforced by clerics bent

on reasserting ties long rent

between church and state,

Now reinstated by the Court

and pro-life misogynist dictum

making women victims.

The Right backlash to Obama

is a fierce and hateful trauma

which dares to take away

our diversity and our vote,

our personhood and culture,

our history and democracy.

Grief is still heavy today

but less than yesterday.

Today ink flows steadily,

freely, hopefully daring leaders

to find the courage to save the vote,

and this beloved country.

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Abbruzzi and Annarino Coming Together,By Louise Annarino,1-17-2013

ANNARINO FAMILY: John and Mary,My Paternal Grandparents

 

Josephine “Mary” Mescari liked to say she was started in Italy and finished in America, born four days after her parents disembarked from their ship. The Mescari family came from Siracusa, Sicily and settled in Cincinnati, Ohio. Her marriage was an arranged one; she met her fiance’, John Anthony Annarino the day before her wedding. Chaperoned by her aunt, she and John took a brief carriage ride around the block, barely exchanging a word. This set the stage for a failed marriage and eventual divorce.

John Annarino had been born in America, the son of immigrants from Termine Immerese, Sicily. A handsome charmer, the marriage did little to slow his pursuit of female attention. As a young girl, I met many older women who got stars in their eyes  when they learned he was my grandfather. The women loved him as much as he loved them. Mary’s sister Annie, who cussed like a sailor, once told me that my grandfather was a wonderful man who would have stayed with Mary if she had not  acted like the g.d. Virgin Mary.

Mary bore John five sons: John, Joseph, Joseph, Francis and Angelo. Her second child Joe,named after her father, died in childhood. She then named her third child after him. John was seldom home. When Angelo was four years old and lay dying, suffering heart valve damage from a  bout of rheumatic fever, the doctor sent for John to say good-bye to his baby son. He did not come. Angelo, surprisingly, survived. The marriage, unsurprisingly, did not.

Mary left John to live with her parents in Cincinnati. She earned her living washing and ironing altar linens for the church; the boys supplementing her income doing odd jobs at the Findley Market. Eventually, they moved back to Newark where the boys graduated from St. Francis De Sales H.S. Under pressure from an embarrassed Joe, now old enough to be aware his father was “living in sin”, Mary finally divorced John. John gave the boys jobs working for him at his market stall. Angelo would rub his hands to get out the stiffness telling the story of spending hours cleaning celery stalks in ice water. His body never forgot that pain.

Interestingly. divorce did not separate family. Mary, John and his new wife Angeline were guests at Sunday dinners and every holiday gathering at our house, no sign of displeasure or remorse. But, Mary loved John and cried for him in private. And John’s only expressed regret as he lay in the hospital dying, was divorcing Mary. He and Angeline had no children. John had a daughter with Angeline’s aunt, but she has never been acknowledged. At mass one day, shortly after they married, Angelo pointed out his “sister” to Angela. She looked just like Angelo. She was never again mentioned.

ANNARINO FAMILY: Angelo Sr.,My Father

Angelo remained the baby of the family his whole life; Joe often referred to him as “brother”, or more often “baby brother”. Angelo just smiled his impish grin and chuckled, since the title inevitably was used when Joe was questioning something Angelo had said or done which disturbed Joe’s equilibrium,something Angelo delighted in doing. He was suspended from school for continuing smile at the Bishop,after several warnings to stop, which only increased the spread of his grin. Instead of going home with a note, he went to the movies…for the next three days. His mother learned of his suspension when his teacher made a home visit since Angelo did not return after the one day suspension. He laughed when discovered, happy to have had a 3 day school vacation.

After graduating from high school, Angelo hitchhiked to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center with 5 cents in his pocket and joined the US Navy. He learned to swim when he was tossed into a 30 foot deep pool; the same strategy he used teaching his children to swim at Buckeye Lake years later. Before WWII Angelo saw north Atlantic duty,escorting supply ships to Great Britain. On Sunday, December 7, 1941 his ship, posted at Pearl Harbor, was at sea. It was ordered back into harbor after the attack, slowly cruising into a harbor strewn with burning ships and dead bodies. Soon after he began duty in the South Pacific, manning a gun turret aboard various destroyers. His bunk lay atop a bomb, but he slept like a baby. He received 29 bronze stars, numerous battle ribbons and the accolades of Admiral “Bull” Halsey when he jerry rigged his turret after a direct hit to keep on shooting, the only gun kept operational after a particularly damaging battle at sea. The ship had to be towed back to New York harbor for major repairs.

One of a few experts in the emerging field of electronics, Angelo taught electronics at Princeton University while his ship was in dry dock. He and his buddies spent Saturday nights at CCC dances at a Catholic church in Staten Island. One night, a girl he had met the week before introduced him to her best friend, Angela Abbruzzi as a joke, “Angela, meet Angelo!”  They danced every dance together. He asked her to marry him.

 

ANGELO ANNARINO AND ANGELA ABBRUZZI,My Parents

After the dance, Angelo insisted on seeing Angela home. She refused;he ignored her. Her parents did not allow her to attend dances, nor date. She kept shooing him away from her. Every morning, Angela saw Angelo standing across the street from her house where she waited for her bus to work. She would tell him “Go away!”. He would push aside her hand and pay her bus fare, sitting next to her all the way; later, taking the return trip with her at the end of her shift. After a few weeks of this, her Father, who often sat on the porch asked her, “Angela, when you gonna ask that nice a boy to come over here to meet me?”

Dating was pulling Angelo away from a bar and keeping him sober at the ice cream shop, then taking long walks in the park. The first time Angelo tried to kiss her, Angela shoved him so hard the park bench flew over backwards. Once, as he put it “testing her” character, he instructed his cousin Pauline to write Angela a letter pretending to be his wife, and including a photo of her new baby. Angela refused to see him after that letter, until his cousin, his brother, and his Mother all wrote explaining this was another of Angelo’s unfunny stunts. When repeating this story, Angelo giggled  and grinned while Angela swatted him with a dish rag.

They married on on a snowy day, one week before Christmas, Angelo’s Father John paying for an elaborate NYC Italian wedding. Immediately, after the ceremony, Angela and her new husband visited her father in the hospital. Their honeymoon was a trip to Ohio to meet relatives.Soon after their Newark arrival, they learned Angela’s father Angelo had died and immediately returned to Staten Island. They rented a one room apartment and returned to their jobs; Angelo at Princeton, Angela as Executive Asst. to the CEO of a chemical company in N.J. A week after, the true owners of the apartment returned and evicted the newlyweds, who had paid 6 months advance rent due to war-time housing shortage. They moved in with Angela’s mother Louise. Angelo transferred his pay voucher to Angela’s Mother for the duration of his service.

Angelo returned to the Pacific, surviving more battles, and hundreds of kamikaze attacks.  Finally, he returned to NYC, packed up his 9 months pregnant wife and moved to Newark to join his brothers in a new venture, The Center Cafe. Family seemed more attractive to him than an offer to become a professor of electronics at Princeton. The baby was home again, with his “baby”. Their first child, Angelo, Jr. was born soon after their arrival.

 

 

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My Abbruzzi Heritage,By Louise Annarino,1-17-2013

MY ABBRUZZI HERITAGE,By Louise Annarino,1-17-2013ImageAngelo and Louise Abbruzzi,My Maternal Grandparents,By Louise Annarino

My mother Angela often told me stories about her family, their journey to America and their struggles as new immigrants. It is not unlike the struggles of current immigrants from Latin America, Somalia and the Mid-East.

Angelo Abbruzzi,her father, grew up in a village on a hillside above Naples called Benevento. He had a twin brother, Pat and brothers Peter, and Joseph; and one sister, Antoinette. When he and his siblings entered through Ellis Island, they found themselves separated into different lines to await processing. Some of his family were recorded correctly with the surname Abbruzzese; but Angelo and another brother had an unsolicited name change to Abbruzzi.

Angelo served in the Italian Army before immigrating to America and became a skilled stone carver. He found work carving the decorative lintels and corners of NYC skyscrapers. He returned to Italy to visit family and discovered the love of his life in Benevento. My grandmother, Louise DiBella (or perhaps DiBelli,or Iabelli;Blame Ellis Isle again!) had returned to her village from Brazil, while Angelo was in America.

Louise was born in Benevento, one of 4 children: brother Severio and sisters Maria and Rosaria. At the age of 7 her mother died and her father relocated his small family to Brazil, where he bought land and developed a coffee plantation. When Louise reached the age of 15 she was sent back to relatives in Italy to learn how to be a proper young lady. Her family might say she failed miserably, but I think she was a raging success.

She was smitten by the young man from NYC who carved art into stone and marble; and, he, by her. He went back to New York to raise money for her passage since he was not one whom her family would have approved as a husband. Before he left for New York, he hired musicians to play Neopolitan love songs beneath her window every night while he was away. Both my Mother and Grandmother hummed and sang these songs as they worked about their kitchens.

As soon as he had sufficient funds Angelo returned to Benevento, and the two young people immigrated to America. They were married after they arrived, at St. Benedetto Church in NYC, and settled in Bronx, NY. Later, they moved to Staten Island, NY. Louise never saw her family again, but did keep up written correspondence with her sister in Brazil. Angela remembers reading those letters to her mother and writing a response since Louise was not able to read, nor write. When her father died she was not able to claim her inheritance, lacking fare to South America.

Angelo and Louise had 10 children: August, 18 month old twins who died from influenza,  Tony, Ursula, Pat, Michael, Joseph, Angela, and Carmella. Many nights Angelo brought home with him children whom he found sleeping on the streets; offering them affection, a seat at the dinner table and warm place to sleep for the night. This did not sit well with the more practical Louise who found it difficult to feed her own children. But, Angelo simply told her to add a little water to the sauce or soup and stretch it so all could eat. Angelo was generous in other ways. He loved his garden, where he grew not only vegetables, which Louise approved, but wondrous flowers which took up vegetable space. He cross pollinated flowers to create new variations and people came from as far as New Jersey to get his seeds and plants, which he freely gave away rather than sell.

The family was very poor. At a young age, Angelo developed high blood pressure.At that time there was no treatment. He was forcefully retired as a stone carver since his employer feared the possibility of stroke or heart attack made it dangerous to work at such heights. No one would hire him until he found work pulling a garbage cart through the streets, collecting rubbish etc. It was never enough to support his family. He developed severe asthma from spending hours picking through slag and coke piles near the railroad to find enough unspent coal to heat the coal stove which provided the only source of warmth for his children.

The children scoured the streets looking for small jobs. And Mike often came home with a  bottle of milk filched from someone’s front stoop. Angela started cleaning houses for others at the age of 6, scrubbing floors until her small hands were raw from the lye soap. In this way she raised money to buy herself sandals to wear for her First Communion.She and her younger sister Carmela “Millie” would save a few pennies to buy penny bags from a local store. These bags contained stale candy the owner could not sell to anyone else. They felt they had a rare treat when they could afford one of these bags.

Occasionally, they would notice men gambling in the alley, coins piled as they rolled dice on the pavement. They would yell shrilly, “jiggedy, the cops!”, alerting them to police about to catch them. The men would run away, leaving the pile of coins in their haste and the kids would scoop up the money and run in the opposite direction. There were not really any cops!

And still, strange children showed up at every meal, and Louise sighed as she added water to whatever was on the menu. Louise made her own sauce from their garden tomatoes, garlic etc. She made her own pasta and hung it on lines stretched along the backyard to dry in the sun. Nothing went to waste. The family relied on “home relief”, which today we call welfare, and considered FDR their savior. When the boys were old enough they left for CCC camps, where they learned how to pour cement, lay block, cut wood, build cabins, string electricity etc. None of them ever hired a contractor to build their homes;they built them together from digging out the basement to putting on the roof.

Image

Angela first spoke English when she went to school. Italian was spoken in their home, at church, and on the radio. She skipped 2 grades and graduated from high school at the age of 16; the only one of her family to graduate. Her first job was, unbelievably, as Society Editor for the Staten Island News. By the time she was 18 she was an executive assistant for the President and CEO of a chemical company in Perth Amboy,NJ. During the war, he traveled on behalf of the war effort so Angela ran the plant. While attending a Catholic Youth Council -CYC dance at her church, she was introduced to a sailor named Angelo Annarino, from Newark, Ohio, who would become my father.

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HE HAD TO TAKE THE FIRST PUNCH,By Louise Annarino, October 11,2012

HE HAD TO TAKE THE FIRST PUNCH, By Louise Annarino,October 11,2012

This is what DAGOS and WOPS are taught by their 1st. generation immigrant mothers: “Never start a fight. Take the first punch. After that fight back.” I cannot speak for African-American parents because I am white. But, I can speak to the innate racism of white people because I am white which means I am a recovering racist; and for white bigotry because I have experienced it as a 2d generation Italian immigrant, a woman, and a Roman Catholic. I know the anger I swallowed when seeing Nazi swastikas painted ten feet tall on the wall of my Catholic high school gymnasium, when being spit on for being a dirty fish-eater, when being ignored by store clerks who waited on everyone who came after me when I was in my school uniform, for being refused interviews for jobs unsuitable for a woman, for being paid less than male colleagues with less education and experience while  performing the same job, when being dismissed by police officers when reporting a rape. Such experiences do not simply slide off a person, even one who quietly takes punch after punch. They settle deeply in the sinew and bone, weigh heavy on the soul, and slow down our response to future acts of bigotry.

Those who routinely suffer bigotry but want to make a good life for themselves and their children do what all ambitious but good people do. They become educated, self-aware and well-mannered, They learn patience and an ability to address bigots with dignity, kindness and a sense of common humanity. Often, this creates an illusion that bigotry is acceptable, even expected. It is neither. Why, then acquiesce in the face of bigotry? Why remain silent? In the Jim Crow south, African Americans faced not only the institutionalized racism of realtors, bankers, and politicians; but, public shaming, physical violence, severe injury, and even death for not moving off a sidewalk to allow a white man to pass, for keeping one’s head up and looking a white man in the eye, for using a white-only drinking fountain, or merely for showing up at a poll to vote.

We have learned that racial bigotry and jim Crow is not just a southern thing, but persists throughout this country. It has become institutionalized within our political parties, rather forcefully within the Republican Party whose policies do not attract diverse membership, and which seems to have succumbed to Teapublican leadership. The Democratic Party’s diverse membership subdues the racial bigotry within; but we must admit it still taints every white American, despite out best efforts. This is why I call us white Americans recovering racists, resisting our innate bigotry one step at a time.

We watched president Obama take the first punch during the first debate. We watched him looking down as the white man aggressively put him in his place. We cannot know why he did not vigorously fight back. But I know that had he done so he would have been attacked far more bitterly than Vice-President Joe Biden has been attacked for his vigorous effort  to keep straight the record of the Obama-Biden administration’s policies. Biden is being derided for is behavior, He is called rude for being a happy warrior, for immediately refuting each lie as it was spoken, for laughing at the most ludicrous comments by Congressman Ryan.

Can you imagine what President Obama, whom the right-wing Republicans define as a socialist-fascist-communist,un-American devil, would have been called? I know what white men call strong, assertive African-American men with the audacity to look them in the eye and challenge them. We all do. An African-American man, too often, must take the first punch;especially, if he is seeking the votes of the  3% undecided white voters. We saw the injustice of lies directed against him for what it is, an attack on at least 47% of us.

Some of us became angry with the president for taking those punches;because, we could feel them in our own gut. But, could we have done better with a first punch? Anyone who really understands what bigotry lay behind the demeaning language and verbally intense attack,anyone who had personal experience with such attacks would have shut down an immediate response to develop a strategy to emerge unscathed. Obama did not give Romney a chance to  define his image. An angry Black thug would not appeal to that 3%.

Things have changed as a result. Americans have given our African-American president permission to fight back and to throw punches at the white candidate. It should not be necessary for him to get our permission. Racism creates ridiculous rules. He will, never the less, be attacked much more severely than Vice-President Biden has been today. However, now we white voters are ready to see such attacks for what they really are: just as unfair and dishonest as Romney’s policies and tactics for taking back the White House.

I cannot speak for the president, for what he felt, or what his response meant to him. But, I know what it meant to me. Time to fight, Mr. President. We have your back.

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POLITICAL GLOBALIZATION,By Louise Annarino,September 6,2012

POLITICAL GLOBALIZATION, By Louise Annarino,September 6,2012

It has been a curious fact to me that my blog is being viewed in over 35 countries, in addition to the United States. American political blogs, I must conclude, are of some interest to individuals across the globe. Emerging democratic republics watch us for insights into party politics. Democrats are an example of people united to move this country FORWARD, despite a well-financed opposition. This is the nature of political fights. However, the level of personalized hate-filled distortions by Super-PACS is exceptionally virulent this campaign cycle.

Could it be the reason our party politics seems to be in flames with incendiary rhetoric against our president and the Democratic Party is because of globalization? I watched much of the Republican convention and am now watching the Democratic convention. The differences are writ large. The diversity within the Democratic Party delegates mirrors that of the globe, while the delegates at the Republican Party convention were the face of an older,nearly all-white America. America has always been diverse but its power-brokers and political leaders have not. Not only did earlier political leaders not recognize nor respond readily to the needs of women, minorities, LGBT community,immigrants and others within America, they carried such chauvinism abroad.

The Democratic Party is the face of a new America. When Barack Obama was elected he changed the face of American politics and power,at home and abroad. There are 12 Democratic women serving in the United States Senate, more than any time in history; 55 in the House of Representatives. One-fourth of Democratic delegates to the convention are African-American. There are more than 800 Latino delegates,150 Native-American delegates. Americans know how to build consensus among diverse cultures and create an American political family called The Democratic Party. Following the practice among union members, Democrats address one another as brothers and sisters. The internet has joined the young people of the world as cousins, if not yet as brothers and sisters. The Democratic Party and the leader of the party, President Barack Obama welcome the nations of the world to join in building a thriving global community of mutual respect and prosperity. American voters should celebrate this;a few do not.

An appreciation and acceptance of diversity within America and across the globe is too often called “un-American”; when, in fact, it is totally American. Racial, cultural, and gender diversity is what built America and what keeps it strong. Diversity of ideas and viewpoints is what stimulates imagination and creates new technology and new enterprises. American prosperity was built upon the backs of a diverse labor group. American immigrants own 18% of small businesses, accounting for 30% of all private sector employment (see morehttp://fiscalpolicy.org/immigrant-small-business-owners-FPI-20120614.pdf). One can only hope that all nations will embrace such diversity within their borders,as we have within ours. What is disturbing is not such diversity but the virulent  disdain and destructive rhetoric the Republican Party rails against the party embracing it. This is what confuses those of us who know and love the American ideal of E Pluribus Unum, “One out of many” from those of us who are Americans, and those of us from other nations.

As businesses and multinational corporations moved jobs and companies abroad, they thought they could avoid organized-labor fair wages, safety precautions, environmental standards and U.S. taxation. Republicans say  they are the party which understands and appreciates globalization,and knows how to rebuild an economy. But, I think it is the Democratic Party which truly understands the value of globalization,and which is ready to embrace citizens of other nations as brothers and sisters for our greater prosperity through job creation. I can only imagine how millionaire investors fear the impact of the spread of American ideals on such a global scale,and how it will affect their bottom line. And of course, destroying or at least weakening the middle class here and abroad will create a labor force willing to accept low wages, few benefits and no ability to wield political power.

This is what is going on in American politics today. This is what readers abroad need to understand. Rest assured, the grassroots supporters of Barack Obama and Democratic Party candidates are working very hard to move America FORWARD 4 more years. Democrats understand politics can get down and dirty; but, neither President Obama nor his party will buckle under to hate, lies or vote suppression. The stakes for America and for the world are too high.

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TEAPUBLICANS:UNSAFE AT ANY SPEED,By Louise Annarino,August 19,2012

TEAPUBLICANS: UNSAFE AT ANY SPEED,By Louise Annarino,August 19,2012

It is not easy for me to type the word Republican in the same sentence with words like “racism” http://open.salon.com/blog/chauncey_devega/2012/08/17/niggerization_toure_was_right_about_romneys_race_baiting: Obama (notice a title is never used) is an angry black man determined to destroy Christian America from within with his Muslim socialism,“war on the poor”: http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2012/08/the-gops-war-on-the-poor/260983/ Obama gives out checks to black people who want free stuff but don’t want to work, “war on women” http://nymag.com/news/frank-rich/gop-women-problem-2012-4/index1.html America needs to turn back the Obama clock to days when women acted as women are supposed to act and let men take care of business,“attack on immigrants” http://thinkprogress.org/election/2012/06/15/500607/mitt-romney-immigration-primary/ Mitt Romney would make life so miserable for immigrants they would “self deport” and Obama coddles them. “attack on education” http://www.alligator.org/opinion/columns/article_137d789e-8383-11e1-983d-0019bb2963f4.html Obama is uppity and overeducated.Not everyone needs an education, nor deserves one. Education should be privatized; ask your parents for a loan if you need financial help to pay for school.

I would like to believe this is not the position of the Grand Old Party- GOP. But, it has been for some time. I believe there are many republicans who are embarrassed by the current Republican platform, policies and candidates; who are ashamed of belonging to  party whose main goal is to make the black man a one-term president even when he adopts the very legislative approach sought by their once-heroes. Who no longer recognize the attacks being made, the lies being told, and the fostering of hate as defensible tactics. A political strategy based on racist ideology has been fully embraced by party leaders, who act as if they have little choice if the party itself is to survive. They seem almost eager to join the racists within their ranks. They seem to be in denial as they attack a black man defending himself against their racism as a racist himself. That is an old sorry tale. As Dan Rather would say “that dog won’t hunt.”

I believe in the power of words. It is time to embrace new terminology. From now on I will refer to the politicians who have embraced and use racism to “get out the republican base” as TEAPUBLICANS. I hope those republicans of good will, who are willing to join with democrats and independents to find solutions to serve the common good, who are willing to share in both sacrifice and success to lead America forward, and who refuse to wage war on fellow Americans to maintain unfair advantage-power-wealth will find a way to save the GOP. It is unsafe for the Republican Party to embrace the Teapublican Party in any way, at any level, at any speed. The Teapublican Party is headed for a crash. Republicans need to get out of the car and stand on their own. That is the only way the Republican Party will survive the years ahead.

Why do I care? Because I believe in a strong two-party system. Politics is a peaceful way to wage war and settle differences with one another. Politics no longer works when the parties no longer respect one another enough to fight the racist, sexist, ethnocentric, nationalistic, homophobic dark side of themselves. Teapublicans embrace false fear and false hate as tools. They walk on the dark side of life. If their fears were real and their hate justified, it would be a totally different story. But Teaparty hate is NOT based on reality: African-Americans are not scary, strong women are no threat, gay spouses won’t ruin heterosexuals marriages, immigrants don’t want your job. It is perhaps too late for republicans to “throw the bums out’ of the GOP;after all, their candidate for president and vice-president have stretched into ridiculous poses to adopt Teapublican positions and policies. But, it is not too late to get out of the car.

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