In America, a warehouse store. A fully roasted chicken costs five dollars, the raw chicken beside it costs seven, and I stood between them like a man between two truths.
Golden. Hot. Seasoned. Spinning in glory under the lights, in a line of its brothers. Four dollars and ninety-nine cents.
I checked the raw birds. Seven dollars. Pale. Cold. You must do everything yourself.
This is not commerce. Commerce does not move backward. Somewhere in this building, mathematics lies defeated.
I asked the man at the counter. "How is the cooked bird cheaper than the raw bird?"
"Been five bucks forever. They keep it that way."
"But the store loses."
"Yep. On purpose."
On purpose. I held my receipt with both hands.
In my land, a lord who lowered the price of rice in a hard winter was remembered for generations. They built him a small shrine. This store does it every day, with chicken, and tells no one.
A woman behind me grew tired of my reverence. "It's just a chicken, sir."
It is not just a chicken. It is a wound the merchant takes on purpose, so that anyone, on any day, with five dollars, eats like a lord. The bird is the message. The price is the vow.
I will confess: I bought two. I did not need two. The second was not hunger. It was gratitude, and it was delicious.
Some prices are not prices. They are promises.
I return every week now. I take one bird. I bow toward the deli, briefly, so as not to alarm the staff. They have begun nodding back.
The vow holds. The bird turns. Five dollars.
Long may it spin.
My father dedicated himself to the cause of justice. He stood with the people, all people, and he refused to accept that the way things were was the way they had to stay. He carried titles that history remembers, but the ones he held closest were that of husband and father.
What I miss most is not the public man. It is the one who came home at the end of a long day, who wanted to know what we thought and why, who pushed us to be curious, generous, and unafraid of hard questions. Daddy did not lecture us about his values. He lived them, and that is how they became ours.
I think of him often now, when so much of what he believed in and worked to uphold is being trampled by those in power. His legacy of championing justice, democracy, and freedom has been passed to each of us.
In other words, the war is over, we're stumbling toward some version of the JCPOA, America is out billions of dollars and lots of weapons that we didn't need to waste, and the United States is now weaker and Iran in a strategically stronger position.
And for what?
During an earlier Gilded Age, Katherine Lee Bates wrote the poem that would become America the Beautiful. The original draft included these words:
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee.
Til selfish gain no longer stain
the banner of the free!
May that be OUR prayer!
https://t.co/qi9pkKUM0y via @NYTimes
Are you actually seeing this post?
Ever since Donald threw his latest unhinged temper tantrum about me (again), folks have been telling me I've mysteriously vanished from their feeds. It appears the deeply unwell narcissist is so terrified of dealing with me in Congress that he’s begged @elonmusk to throttle my account.
This kind of pathetic desperation is nothing new. But I need YOU to help me beat Donald and Elon at their own game. Don't let a malignant sociopath and his billionaire enabler silence us.
Please like, retweet, and click the link below to support my campaign. Let's give him something to really cry about.
https://t.co/NiW1Ro2kZa
This is a huge development--a chance to firmly punish Russia for its savage aggression and help add to Ukraine's growing momentum.
Perhaps a chance to finally end this war.
UNLESS the @POTUS stands w/Putin, and Republicans in Congress are too cowed to oppose him.
Are you alive today? If you didn’t die from COVID, HIV/AIDS, Ebola, SARS, swine flu, anthrax, tuberculosis, malaria, or other diarrheal diseases, you have the great Dr. Tony Fauci to thank.
It’s been an incredible day — thank you to everyone who’s shared my story.
I’m the daughter of a truck driver and a Mexican immigrant. I became an intelligence officer, where I saw Trump’s chaos up close.
So I resigned, and helped defeat him in 2020.
Now he’s back. And I’m going all in to stop him. Join me.
My name is Olivia Troye. I'm not connected. I'm not rich. I have no famous last name, but I worked in the first Trump Administration and couldn’t stay silent.
I’m the daughter of a truck driver and a Mexican immigrant. I served in counterterrorism under Presidents Bush and Obama.
In 2020, I resigned from Trump's White House after seeing MAGA’s corruption and incompetence from the inside.
I realized the best way to stop Trump is to elect a Congress that will hold him accountable. That’s why I’m running.
So proud of @CaptMarkKelly for being named to @TIME 100 Most Influential People. This year, Mark has defended Americans’ rights, stood up to bullies, and continued fighting to make our country a better place.
I can’t think of anyone more deserving.❤️https://t.co/OoJRUWsD6J