I saw something, for once not on Facebook, it struck me, the person said that the five slain officers were overshadowing the civilian deaths that had recently taken place.
I admit I sat there for a long time just looking at it, the words, the sheer audacity, the sheer non-understanding of why these five deaths are resonating with the nation. No, the world, they ran into the line of fire to save the people protesting them. How does that not express the profound meaning that their lives had? That their deaths have? They ran towards gun-fire to save people who protested them.
I have seen a lot of things recently spouting “race” as if ones’ race is based on skin tone. It’s not, we are the human race, created in God’s image. He did not create different humans with different skin tones, He didn’t say “you know what, I’m going to separate these people I have created by color”. He didn’t color code us. He created man in his own image and saw it was good.
Good. We were created good, prejudice is not inherent, it is learned. I was taught all of my life to judge a person by the content of their character not by the outward appearance. A hard lesson for me, oh, not by skin tone, apparel. I judged by what a person wore, their hair style, shoes, oh my, yes the shoes. My poor mother, she really had her work cut out for her with that one. I remember one Sunday, in Owasso, OK at the First Freewill Baptist Church, a woman came in with jeans.
WHAT!? This had to be 1979 or around there, I was aghast, one simply did not do that in 1979. As soon as we got in the car to go home I just could not contain myself. The judgements flew out of my mouth at a rapid rate. I could not believe someone, much less a woman, would come to church in jeans.
I’ll never forget the look on my mothers’ face, it wasn’t anger, it was sadness and disappointment. She looked at me for a long time and said Angie show me in the bible where it says don’t come to church in jeans. Or for that fact where it says all ye women come in a dress.
I sat there in that back seat and just stared, then I said well you won’t let me do it, she said no, I won’t. Here’s why, when we go to God’s house we wear our best, that’s why it’s called our Sunday best. You are very fortunate that your Sunday best is stylish, nice, pressed and what we, as your parents, deem appropriate.
Not everyone has those kinds of garments, did you ever once, in the middle of your judgement think that the jeans were her Sunday best? Those are the best jeans she owns, they are clean, no holes and fit, her shirt was nice, clean, pressed and she was presentable. She was dressed in her Sunday best and here you sit, judging her. I never forgot that, disappointing my mom it was up there with disappointing God. I learned a strong lesson that day, it is one, I admit, I still struggle with.
To judge a person by something they cannot control is idiocy, people cannot control the color of their skin. The pigment they are born with, it is who they are, that is not something we should be judging on.
No matter what color your skin is, if it is white, peach, ghostly white (Irishman shout out there), brown, light brown, dark brown, black, olive (Tammi shout out there), tan, red, yellow or any other color that can be found in a child’s Crayola box, one should not be judged for it.
Before my life in Owasso, the one I don’t talk about too much, I lived in Oklahoma City, as a matter of fact, I lived in a really tough neighborhood. Capitol Hill, if you are from there, then you know, it’s rough. Or it was when I was a kid.
In the 1970’s Oklahoma began desegregating, I know, 10 years behind everyone else.
There was a good mixture of skin tones in my elementary school, we had everyone, white, black, brown, red, everyone. You know what, no fights based on skin color, I did have a fight with a boy named Kevin, he was my skin tone. He made me mad and I hit him with my lunch box. My metal, partridge family with the thermos in, lunch box. Mr. Jackson was our principal and I went to see him fairly often, only once did he call my grandparents. Never anyone else.
Did I mention he was black? A lot of my teachers were as well, I never thought anything about it. Skin color was never mentioned and as children no one cared. At all. There was one incident, but I really can’t talk about it here and it’s not “race” related it was more an explanation gone wrong issue. And yes, it had to do with me.
When I got to Middle School, Capitol Hill Middle School, things had changed, it was not an equal mixture of skin tones, it was roughly 75% black, 15% white and the rest Indian, I am using these terms due to the fact that is what we used then. Please take them in context to the time frame.
In middle school, still no issues, no one made any reference to skin color, a lot of classes, as I look back, I realize I was the only one in there that had a pale appearance. No one held it against me, I wasn’t called names. I was confused when I watched the nightly news, as it was talking about “race” riots, minorities and things of that nature. In my school, I was the minority, so I really didn’t understand.
Then I moved to a different part of Oklahoma City and started going to Jefferson Middle School, way different demographic, back to more of an equal balance of skin tones. Here is the funny story from there, I saw my friend Paulette from CHMS and we were thrilled to see each other. I said I didn’t know you guys were going to go here! She had a twin brother named Paul. She said yes, her mom and dad wanted to get out of the old neighborhood. She then said, and I’ll never forget it, there were too many black people there. I looked at her for a minute and said Paulette, you know your black right? She laughed and said that is what she said to her mom and dad. She said she really never got an explanation for that one.
Oh and before you think oh they must have been too light skinned for “the community” at that time. Not the case, her family was very proud of the fact that they were pure, no Indian and no White. I didn’t know what that meant until later, all I knew was Paulette and I were friends, her family welcomed me into their home and mine welcomed her into ours.
Then the move to Owasso, now, I have to tell you, Owasso was a shock to my system, a huge shock, on so many levels. Gone were the museums, the symphony, no orchestra at school, I was so depressed about moving I didn’t want to join the basketball team, I had played in OKC, I didn’t want to join the band, seriously, I was a cello player. No cellos in Owasso at that time, also, not a lot of people that didn’t look like me.
I remember the first day of school there, my BFF Tammi and I went, we took the bus, spent all day going from class to class. Then after school, we waited for our bus, I couldn’t take it anymore, I whispered what did they do with the black people, she said I don’t know, but don’t say anything because they might do away with us. Tammi came from Tulsa, huge diversity there as well.
Owasso is much more diverse now, however it wasn’t then, and it was a shock to my system.
But I still was being raised in a household where you did not judge based on outer appearances, especially based on something you cannot change.
Something has to give in this country, if you are judging me based on my pigmentation then you are prejudice, if someone is judging you based on your pigmentation they are prejudice.
I am a regionalist, I admit that, I judge on what region of the country you are from. I states, well, I am not overly fond of I states. I am not going to say what those are here, as I would get hate mail. Just know, that the job I have, I get to see how people behave when they think they can get away with speaking to humans any kind of way. I think we all know what that means.
Every day, I work side by side with people who do not look like me, we all get along, we all joke with one another, help one another and share knowledge and experience. We don’t base our opinion of someone’s ability to do their job based on the pigmentation of their skin.
We are one race, we are the human race, God made one race, humans, until the aliens come, and they totally are, but for now, on this big blue marble, we are it. Human. We might come in different colors, different shapes, sizes and have different thought processes, but we are all one. And if you are a Christian or even Jewish, then we are all descendants of Adam and Eve. We are brothers and sisters; we all need to remember that.
I do not judge a situation based on a snippet of a video someone took with their phone, from an angle that doesn’t show everything that happened. I do believe that the media and politicians and people who are in power want to keep everything stirred up. They want to keep humans fighting over pigmentation.
Just stop, stop and take a good long look at what the people in power don’t want you to see. Take time out to forge friendships with people of differences. Physical, emotional, intelligence and personality, those differences in us make the whole.
I’ll leave you with the words of Downtown Julie Brown, peace, love and gossip.
As always, if you have any comments or questions you can direct them to angie@angieworld.com
Happy Birthday Alex
Today is my youngest son’s birthday, I had to actually do the math because there is no way he can be 25.
Alex,
I am so proud of you and all that you are doing. Your thought process always astounds me. You don’t simply go from a to b, you take routes people would never think to take.
Watching you becoming the man you are has been a privilege.
The conversations we have are always thought-provoking, funny and never ever boring.
You were named after the first member of my family, the Testerman side, who came to America. I know we call you by your middle name, you are so an Alex. However I see Thomas in you as well, the man who left everything behind to forge a new life.
To jump into a full-blown revolution.
Choosing to be an America, fight for freedom from England, the founder of our family.
You are brave, a little impulsive and willing to take up for what is right.
I love you beyond the moon. Happy birthday son!
Love,
Mom.
My Thoughts
My heart is heavy, my mind is boggled, my understanding of this world is gone. Last night in Dallas, TX, 5 police officers were brutally murdered, shot down like dogs. Eleven more injured, one civilian injured as she protected her children.
During a peaceful protest shots began to ring out, police officers ran towards the shots, to protect the people protesting them. You know what, let’s take a minute to let that digest, ran towards shots being fired to protect people who hold them in disdain.
I understand they were protesting black men being shot and killed by police officers, however, I would like to remind everyone that the killings they were protesting happened in different states. Not even Texas, so it begs the question, why are you protesting Dallas police?
Do you feel a modicum of responsibility in this slaughter? If you had not been protesting police actions in a different state you would not have put our police officers in jeopardy.
They ran towards gun fire to save you, I cannot say it enough, for all of those that hate the police, that say incendiary words directed toward their demise, well, congratulations. You wiped out 5 of them last night.
To those of you that really want things to change in a peaceful manner, this is not directed at you, however, today, of all days, you need to go on your knees and thank God that they were there to run towards the gun fire to protect you.
I grew up in a household that respected laws and the law enforcers, oh don’t get me wrong, I did my share of skating the law. In my teenage years, drinking underage, drag racing, things of that nature. I didn’t rob anyone, the one and only time I have ever stolen anything was when I was four and ate grapes before my grandmother paid for them. She shamed me so mercilessly that I never stole another thing.
My dad taught me that if I disagree with a rule to practice civil disobedience. I have read Henry David Thoreau’s Civil Disobedience countless times due to my dad. Everyone should read it that wants to change things in our society, in our government, local and federal.
I am so saddened but not shocked at what happened last night in Dallas, TX. The world has taught me not to be shocked anymore at the cheapening of life that is happening on a global scale.
In our country, the United States of America, we should be above that. It is time people, time to understand that the white people who are alive today did not practice slavery. It is time people to understand that not all black people are thugs that want to rob you. EVERYONE in this country, has to work together for the betterment of EVERYONE, every citizen. The good of the many outweigh the good of the few.
Disagree with a law, disagree with what is happening, practice civil disobedience, stop waging open war on police officers.
Not all police officers are bad, not all white people are racists and not all black people are thugs. I read that on a meme. It’s true, it’s time to hold hands and sing Kumbaya.
Patriotism
Patriotism runs deep in my blood, I know I talk about that a lot, but it is worth repeating. Thomas Testerman fought for the independence of this country from England. We fought a revolution to throw off the tyrannical rule of a mad man. Mad King George, that was the moniker he was known by.
Unreasonable taxes were levied, unreasonable demands made, the ruler wanted to impose his empirical laws on a part of the world that was increasingly independent. That independence is what contributed to the making of this country.
I am going to choose to celebrate that instead of making this a political statement on what is happening today in this country.
Of the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence 48 were born on American soil, 48, let that sink in. only 8 were born in Great Britain. Gwinnett Button and Robert Morris were born in England, Francis Lewis was born in Wales, James Wilson and John Witherspoon were born in Scotland, George Taylor and Matthew Thornton were born in Ireland and James Smith hailed from Northern Ireland.
The amount of people in this country that believe no one lived here until the Revolution astounds me. I am doing research on my grandmothers’ family and I am in the 1600’s and I still can’t find when they came here! They were born here!
Yes, I know, the Native Americans were here first, the Vikings were here as well, which is when I suspect her family first showed up.
We have been around for a long time; we have been through incredibly trying times together. Outside forces want us to implode, we cannot allow them to win.
At this time of the year patriotism should be at its highest, in light of the horrible things that have been done to our fellow countrymen, patriotism should be at an all-time high.
Our founding fathers were correct, all men are created equal, all people are created equal.
It is what we do with the opportunity The United States of America affords us. All of us.
As we are having our picnics, our cookouts, barbecues and watching fireworks, let us think of the men and women that bravely gave everything they had so we could have our freedoms.
From the Revolution to today, the bravery of the few keep the multitudes of us free, free to enjoy our unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
Never forget how and why we have those rights.
As always the thoughts and opinions expressed are mine, Angie, that’s why it’s called Angie World.
Any questions please feel free to email me angie@angieworld.com
Self-Sufficient?
Ok, so, on Facebook, where I find fascinating things, a woman, not a friend, posted a meme. Not any old meme, one that said something to the effect that a man should find a woman that can pay her own bills and is self-sufficient.
My jaw dropped, not due to the message, but the one posting it. One should really not post things of that nature if one regularly asks men to pay their bills.
A few days prior to that post she had just asked a man to pay her water bill. What was the wording she used, oh yes, “I’d be ever so humbled if you could see your way to giving me some money”.
Seriously? Women like this give all of the real working women who have never asked a man that is not Living with them, engaged to them or married to them for money to pay their bills.
If I have needed extra money to pay for anything I simply went to work and sold more Mary Kay. Mary Kay payed for all three of my children’s class rings. Hard work enabled me to buy refrigerators, furniture, extra books or anything else we might need.
This is not the first time I have heard of women doing this. It’s seriously disheartening in this day and age women still do this. Especially when they have jobs, yes people, this woman is employed! And has no small children!!
If you are one of these women learn to budget, live within your means and stop begging men for money.
I’ll never understand these women, of course I was raised by good, Christian parents. Maybe she wasn’t, maybe her mother behaves in the same way, men in and out, married men, engaged men, giving money for services rendered. Perhaps that’s where she learned that behavior.
I had parents that taught me to stand on my own to feet, work for what I have, pay bills first, then food, then what is left over is for children’s clothing or whatever else is needed. If there’s anything after that, well, that was my book fund.
Ruth’s are far and few apart, If you have a choice, choose to do the right thing. Lift other women up, don’t beg for money, get a job, a second job and if that doesn’t do it get a third.
After my divorce, before my job at the major telecommunications corporation, I worked three jobs and went to school full time. Never asked a man for money to pay my water bill. Interesting.
As always, if you have an issue with the views expressed here, remember, it’s not called Angie World for nothing. angie@angieworld.com
Father’s Day Misogynistic?
As we know Father’s Day was just last weekend and as usual Facebook and Twitter had a lot to say on the subject. Honestly, I try not to read any of them because it makes the dust kick up in the house and my eyes water, somewhat. But one caught my eye, it was a comment made by a woman, not a friend of mine, but someone shared this post. It said what about the single moms who fulfill both roles, then it went on to say Father’s Day was sexist and misogynistic in nature. Hmmm, when Mother’s Day was here back in May, I saw no posts from men saying how unfair it was that women got a day. That it was sexist and what about the single dads raising their children alone.
I know several dads that have raised their children alone, most of these were when the mothers decided they didn’t want to mother anymore and just walked out. Sad, but true, anyway, no complaints from them on Mother’s Day, asking for equality.
I am a single mom, I have been since 1993, however, my children have a father, a dad, a male role model. I was a single mom in my household, however, I did not raise my children alone. And the majority of single mothers do not raise their children alone.
To take away the credit and the roles that fathers play in their children’s lives is sexist and, well, stupid.
The father of my children and I could not stay married, we were both alphas trying to take control, it did not go well. I often tell people, he was a bad choice for a husband for me, but he was a great choice for the father of my children.
He was always there, he continues to be there, just as much as I am there, he sees two of them more often than I, due to geography and well they work for him. Right now I am talking emotionally and mentally, hands down he was the right choice.
I am a single mom that wants no part of Father’s Day kudos, now I realize there are some women who are truly alone raising their children. Widows come to mind. I know a woman that was widowed when her children were young. It was unexpected and devastating, and she did have to play both roles in her household.
That is hugely different that a regular divorced couple, where both parents are very much involved with their children.
I get irritated when I see things like this, people who want to take something away that is uniquely male in nature. Its craziness, sheer, unadulterated stupidity.
To the moms out there who do things to keep the children from their dads, shame on you, I’m going to tell you this, one day it will come back to bite you right in the rear end.
I happily give my ex-husband his due credit, he is a good dad, not a perfect dad, but then my kids didn’t get the perfect mother either, but a good one. Only a few people get to have perfect parents, I did, I was given perfect parents.
Leave Father’s Day alone, let dads have their day with their children, just because you are in two different households does not mean you play both roles.
My Dad
What I miss the most about my dad is his laugh, it was all-encompassing and you knew he wasn’t laughing at you but at the situation. He always told me it is far better to laugh than to cry. He was right, I have used that philosophy to get me through some really tough times.
I miss his wisdom, I always knew I could go to him with a problem and he would have the answer. Life was so much simpler when I could rely on him.
I only had him for a short time, I wasn’t born with a dad, oh I had a grandpa, uncles and older cousins, but I didn’t have a dad. Until I acquired one in my great-uncle, he took on the responsibility of raising another child when he didn’t have to. He was in his golden years, retirement, but he saw a need and he filled it.
I fully believe, to this day, he and my mom saved my life, I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me. So today, when fathers are honored, I honor the man who didn’t have to be my dad but decided to be my dad.
When I moved away from Owasso and landed in Texas phone calls were not cheap as it was long distance back in the day. We didn’t have cell phones and one waited until after 7:00 pm for night rates to make long distance calls. My dad was a stickler for this rule, he rarely broke it, after all, why waste money when you didn’t have to.
One day, he broke this rule, I’ll never forget that day, it was the middle of the day! I answered the phone and heard his voice and my first thought was someone died. Because you didn’t call long distance in the middle of the day back then unless someone died.
I said who died, he said no one, why would you say that, I said it’s the middle of the day dad. He laughed and then said no one is dead but he had something serious to discuss. Then he proceeded to tell me a story and it’s not politically correct to tell these days, but I’m going to tell it anyway.
He said do you remember that Sunday School teacher you argued so much she quit? I said yes, and if she had known her bible she might have won one of those arguments. He said, well, she left her husband and ran off with a woman and I blame you.
I said DAD! He said well, if you hadn’t argued with her so much in church she might not have done that. Then he could not contain himself he burst out laughing. I said you called me in the middle of the day to tell me that.
He said it was worth the price because he had been working on that funny all week. Then he handed the phone to my mom, who was laughing so hard she could barely talk.
When she caught her breath she told me she was laughing harder at the fact he thought that was middle of the day call worthy.
I miss my dad, I miss his laughter, his wisdom, his argumentativeness and his presence. My life is so much better from having been his daughter.
Tuesday in the Drive-Thru
On Tuesday I decided to stop on my way to work for some coffee at McDonalds. So there I went, into the parking lot, mind you I have already had a frustrating morning, there was another car coming the opposite direction. He couldn’t make up his mind, I do the only thing I can, I yell make up your mind and gesture emphatically (a little something for Buffy fans). He gestures for me to go ahead and I do.
I get to the ordering thing and I hear a honk, I thought seriously, you’re now honking at me. I look behind me, nothing, I hear the honk again. He is beside me, I think, this is it, I am going to die, in the drive-thru at McDonalds. Not a particularly elegant way to end, but there you have it.
I roll down my window, he is an older gentleman, he says you look like you’re having a frustrating morning. Not what I expected, stupidly I start to tear up, I said I really am. He said I just want to tell you that your backup light is out on the driver’s side. I thank him, the tears start to fall out and he says are you ok, I say no, I’m really not. He said well you woke up beautiful this morning, you have a really blessed day.
I lost it, I started bawling like a big fat baby, the kindness of this stranger was too much. For those of you who know me well, you know I’m dead inside. I am cold, hard and not a crier. I’m not used to people saying nice things to me in the course of my days.
You see my days are filled with people who scream at me, who curse at me and call me names. Who cut me off, won’t listen, even though they called me for help. I have actually been called the C word, the C word people. For simply asking a customer to verify their account before changing their email password. That was a woman that called me that, by the way.
My days are filled with people telling me I am retarded for not doing what they want. What they want is not possible, or I have to get them to the correct department.
The worst are the I state people, once again, the people that know me well, they know what that means. The women, it’s the women! They will cuss you out faster than you can spit. Its jaw dropping, I want to ask each one of them if they kiss their momma with that mouth.
I am jaded, I have no hope for humanity left, until Tuesday, Tuesday in the drive-thru of a McDonalds gave me hope in humanity again.
Passion
Passion. It’s a word that seems to guide a lot of what goes on in the world. Passion for what you believe in for example can cause all kinds of things. From saving the world to annihilating it. Passion is found in relationships; Webster’s Dictionary tells us passion is a strong sexual or romantic feeling for someone. It also tells us a strong feeling that causes you to act in a dangerous way.
The type of passion I have been thinking about for a long time is a strong feeling of enthusiasm for something or about something.
I hear it a lot, find something that you are so passionate about you would do it for free.
The one consistent thing I have ever been passionate about in this way is words. I love words, written, spoken, they have the ultimate power. With words you can either break someone or lift them up. You can be a truth teller or a story teller, you can be a politician or a journalist. Although in today’s world there are no true journalists left.
Back to me, my grandfather taught me to read when I was four years old. He did this, not because he sensed any great intelligence in me, but because I bugged him every 5 minutes to read to me. Even then I loved books, I loved a good story, I wanted to immerse myself in them. Even then they were my escapism.
So, instead of reading to me every 5 minutes, since he did have things to do, he taught me to read. I have not looked back since.
Words have saved my sanity at many points in my life, to be able to pick up a book and completely lose myself in the characters and the story has been a gift. I am totally in awe of a person who can pick up a pen and craft a story so compelling that people don’t want to put it down until they get to the very end. After that you miss the characters, the story, what happens next, sometimes there is an answer, sometimes not.
With words there is power, one has the power to heal a broken heart, to soothe a child, to turn the course of history and sometimes to save a life.
I don’t know what to do with this passion, I don’t have a book in me, I can’t write fiction, trust me, I’ve tried. All I can do is tell my opinion and I don’t think that counts for a lot.
I have so many opinions about everything, the current state of affairs in my own country. That comes first in my mind, since I am a citizen of said country. I would make a horrible politician because I would tell the truth, about everything.
With all of that being said, I would love to find something I am passionate about and do that for a living. I think everyone should be able to do that. I do believe there are people passionate about being in the service industry, I have met a few. I believe there are people who are passionate about horticulture and lawn care. I believe there are people who are passionate about cars, I have met so many of those.
In all of that, at my age, I want to find my passion, something I am so passionate about I would do it for free, but don’t have to, because someone will pay me to do it.
As always you can contact me at angie@angieworld.com
Another Rant
So now it starts, I have seen it myself, posted on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, let the minority pour out.
By minority I mean the racists, the hateful people who have nothing better to do than to tear people down. Not only the racists a lot of what I am seeing is jealousy. Someone did something, achieved something, through hard work and perseverance that you could not. Or are unwilling to do.
You see we have a new Miss USA, she is Deshaun Barber Miss District of Columbia. And she is beautiful, physically yes, however in my eyes what makes her truly beautiful is her selfless decision to become an Army Reservist. She is in our Armed Forces. She protects our freedoms, she has made an oath to the United States of America to stand up for our freedoms, our way of life and our very lives.
I saw the side by side photos of her in her army fatigues and the one of her winning the title of Miss USA, in her ball gown. She is beautiful in both, but to me, the more telling one was the one of her in her fatigues.
Oh have I mentioned yet she happens to have a little bit of a darker pigmentation to her skin than I have? Oh, I thought it was implied with the racists coming out of the woodwork comment.
The thing I find most upsetting is that now on Facebook I am seeing all white people, or the people who are pigmentation challenged, let’s be politically correct shall we, being lumped into one category. Racist.
How did I earn that title? Why are we being lumped into one category?
Am I allowed to ask my friends that? Do you view me in the same vein that you are posting about? All white people are racists. Is that how I am seen? Have I done something I don’t know about to give you that impression? Please tell me.
When I see a person I don’t judge you based on something you had no control over at birth. Your eye color, your skin color, your height (although freakishly tall people scare me a little, not scare freak me out), shoe size, and other things that you had absolutely no control over at birth.
I think by now we all know I am a pretty judgy person, I try not to be but it’s there. Here is a list of things I judge on:
Morality
Grammar (I’m trying not to be so judgmental here, but it’s difficult)
Shoe style, I mean seriously if you are into Crocs, we can’t even.
I mainly judge on morality, integrity, loyalty those matter to me more than a person’s skin tone, hair color, what car they drive and yes even their taste in footwear.
So if you are one of the people in the world who look at someone and judge them purely by things they had no control over at birth, shame on you. No matter your skin color, you should not be judging someone by theirs.
Judge on things people can control, judge yourself by things you can control.
I am hardest on myself, things I can control, my reactions to things happening beyond my control. My footwear, my hair color, my fashion choices and my choice to always do the right thing even when no one is looking.
I will always do my best to do what is right, my dad instilled that into me, if you always do what is right and have morals then you can always pay the price for that.
Hold your head up in great pride Miss USA Deshaun Barber, you are a great example for EVERY little girl in our country right now. You truly are an American Warrior Queen, I cannot imagine there is anyone out there in this moment and time who deserves the title of Miss USA more. You represent us in a way that no one has before, you have pledged not only to represent the USA you have pledged to protect the United States of America.
I look forward to seeing what you do with your future, I foresee great things for you.
As always I can be contacted at angie@angieworld.com
Angie World 