1.0The News Journalhttps://qa.thenewsjournal.netrich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="UqSVhsP7Bb"><a href="https://qa.thenewsjournal.net/dont-push-buttons/">Don’t push my buttons</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://qa.thenewsjournal.net/dont-push-buttons/embed/#?secret=UqSVhsP7Bb" width="600" height="338" title="“Don’t push my buttons” — The News Journal" data-secret="UqSVhsP7Bb" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); /* ]]> */ </script> https://qa.thenewsjournal.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/Bena-Mae-mug166.jpg200300Don’t push my buttons Woke up one morning last week, had a good breakfast, got ready to go for a doctor’s appointment. It was a pleasant sunny drive to the doctor’s office, clouds and clouds of blooming Bradford pear trees and redwoods along the river, a beautiful panorama and proof that spring was really here.  “God’s in His Heaven, all’s right with the world,” ran through my mind. My daughter-in-law Kathy, was driving, as she always accompanies me to every doctor visit. I call her my advocate since she knows the pertinent questions to ask as I’m trying to decipher the medical jargon which is sometimes over my head. The doctor I was seeing was a new one and I was there to see what damage had been done to my lungs after the pneumonia from which I had just recovered. After the tests and x-rays were completed, the doctor, whom I had never met, proceeded to give me the results, all matter-of-fact, and many things I already knew. Then, without provocation, without any kind of opening, he suddenly went into a political tirade. Kathy and I had not said a word about politics and he had no knowledge of our political preference. His insulting behavior and his constant barrage of attacking one of our candidates left our minds reeling. We had made no mention of the presidential race whatsoever. But suddenly we felt ourselves in bizarro world. It was a jaw-dropping experience, one we had never seen before. He was espousing the hateful rhetoric we see on television every hour of every day. When he started to leave after about five minutes of his verbal onslaught, I grabbed him by the arm. I said, “You’re not going anywhere. You are going to listen to me.” As he tried to pull away, I tightened my grip on his arm. I was seated and he was standing over me.  When I tried to speak, he kept interrupting me, but I held on to his arm. “You are not going to talk over me,” I said. “You’re going to listen to me.” I told him what I thought about his inappropriate behavior. He kept trying to pull away but I only kept tightening my hold on  his arm. All the while he kept trying to break free but I just held on tighter and saying “You’re not going anywhere until you hear me out.”  Maybe I will be 89 years-old next month but I still have fire in my belly and I still have a voice. When I finally turned him loose, he rushed to the door and said, “I’m glad you’re angry. It’ll help you get better.” Then he raced down the hall. He probably thought I was mad and I was mad, but justifiably so. This is a sad commentary on what is happening today.  It shows a loss of what is decent and respectful of other peoples’ opinions.  And I find it deplorable. Every word I have written is true and similar things are happening every day in this great nation. As the late Tennessee governor Frank Clement said many years ago, “How long, oh Lord, how long? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ P.S. I fired the doctor. HAM AND SWISS LOADED POTATO Finish off that leftover Easter ham for a delicious supper. Ingredients 4 baking potatoes (about 1 1/2 pounds) 1 cup diced ham (about 6 ounces) 1 cup (4 ounces) shredded Swiss cheese, divided 1/2 cup thinly sliced green onions, divided 1/2 cup fat-free sour cream 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper Preparation Pierce potatoes with a fork; arrange in a circle on paper towels in microwave oven. Microwave at high 16 minutes or until done, rearranging potatoes after 8 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes. Preheat broiler. Cut each potato in half lengthwise; scoop out pulp, leaving a 1/4-inch-thick shell. Combine potato pulp, ham, 1/2 cup cheese, 1/3 cup green onions, sour cream, and pepper. Spoon the potato mixture into shells. Combine 1/2 cup cheese and remaining green onions, and sprinkle over potatoes. Place potatoes on a baking sheet; broil until cheese has melted.