Do you know what I discovered this week?  Being a mother doesn’t stop when your kid turns 18, and being a grandmother is full of overwhelming joys but also sleepless nights of worry—even if one of your “grandkids” is a dog.  My grand dog (Wednesday Addams) went blind in one day this week—literally.  (When my younger daughter went to work one morning, Wednesday Addams kissed her goodbye, and when she returned at the end of a very long day, my grand dog ran to the door to greet her, sailed right past her mommy, and ran smack dab into a wall—almost knocking herself unconscious).  The Vet’s verdict:  SARDS—Sudden acquired retinal degeneration disease.  My daughter was destroyed.  (Now keepin’ it 100—I don’t even like dogs.  I tolerate this dog, but my thirty-two-year-old daughter would give her life for this creature who has been with her since her college days, so because she was broken-hearted over this sudden tragedy, I burst into tears right along with her.  I absolutely lost it—for days!)  When your kids hurt—no matter how old they are—as a parent, you hurt!

Wednesday Addams Blind

GRANDDOG, WEDNESDAY ADDAMS, Photo credit:  C. Tomczyk

 As we are quickly approaching Mother’s Day, the grand dog incident caused me to meditate on my role as mother and grandmother.  In the wee small hours of the morning, when no one is there to know whether you’re telling the truth or not except God, I had to admit that—upon review—I have been a much better grandmother than a mother.  Oh, at first blush, the kids will tell you that I was an awesome mother (because they are now in their thirties and have had a taste of how rough life can be, and thus they think I walk on water to have accomplished what I did with them on so little time and so little money).  But if you ply them with a few drinks, both my girls would tell you that they have no idea who this woman is that is the grandmother to their son and nephew.  They would tell you that I have been replaced by an alien, because this patient, gentle, sympathetic, long-suffering, delightful woman who goes by the name of “Mema” as a grandmother is not the same woman who showed up to be their mother when they entered the world.

Mothers Day Peter Broelman Australia


Case in point:  When my seven-year-old grandson comes to my house, if he cleans up his mess, I am ecstatic, but if he doesn’t—gets distracted for some reason or another—I’ll clean up the mess and think nothing of it because I’d much rather he have the time to hang out with his grandfather and me doing fun things than me having to nag him about my OCD need for an orderly house.  But when my kids were little, a clean house was next to godliness.  There were color-coordinated crates for every type of toy: two brown crates for building blocks, one green crate for Legos, one pink crate for Barbies, and a miniature trunk with a lid for dress-up clothes and doll outfits.  And if they didn’t pick up their toys after playing with them, then there would be a mandatory “time-out” for that toy and its accoutrement the next time around.  I’ll never forget overhearing a conversation between my four-year-old daughter and her sister who was three years old at the time (they are 21 months apart in age), as I was coming down the hallway to check on the clean-up progress.  The younger daughter (the three year old) was hysterical about the mandate to clean up her toys.  To hear her wailing, you would have thought she had lost her mother.

3-YR-OLD:  I hate dis, I hate dis . . .I not gonna pick up toys—not now, not ever [hiccups, sobs, lip quivering hysterics]!

4-YR-OLD:  Well . . .  you better get over it, and just do it.  I been livin’ with dis woman all my life, and she ain’t never gonna change.


GOOGLE MEME: We Know Memes

Then there was the time when my grandson visited our new home in our retirement town for the first time.  We had our children during our “salad days” which meant we barely had a pot to pee in or a window to throw it out of.  But in our retirement years we have been blessed with the finances to purchase a gorgeous home, and the first thing we did was outfit a wonderful room for our grandson which bears a hand-painted sign with his name on it.   Coming from a small apartment in NYC, he was more than thrilled to have his own room—he was overjoyed.  So when he heard a knock on the door while in the middle of some intricate Lego project when he was just five years old—assuming he knew who it was—he responded with extreme agitation to the knocker.

5YR-OLD-GRANDSON:  Go away!  I am very busy in my own, new, beautiful room.  Go away and mind your own beeswax!!!

GRANDPA:  Okay, Buddy.  It’s Grandpa.  I thought you might want to go to the park with me and try the toy airplane we bought.  We can go later.


(This is so true:  Said grandson absolutely adores his grandpa and had never spoken disrespectfully to him before then, nor has he ever done so.  But I digress.)  At this point in the story, his mother (my older daughter) comes barreling down the hall like a bat out of Hell, screaming: “AND WHO DID YOU THINK IT WAS?  HUH?  ME—YOUR MOTHER?! THE ONE WHO STILL BEARS THE STRETCH MARKS FROM BRINGING YOU INTO THIS WORLD THAT SOUNDS LIKE YOU SOON WANT TO DEPART FROM BECAUSE CLEARLY YOU HAVE LOST YOUR MIND?!”

GRANDSON:  Ah, yes . . . I mean no . . . I mean oh, man . . .

Grandma Rescue Call


At which point, Super Mema jumped in to save the poor boy’s hide by pulling my daughter aside so that we could have a butt-saving conversation out of my grandson’s earshot.  “Now, now, darling,” I said very soto voce—trying to bring calm to the situation.  “There is no concrete evidence that my precious grandson thought he was speaking to you.  And even if he was, he didn’t say, ‘Go fuck yourself, Mother!’ I whispered.  He said, ‘mind your own beeswax’—completely innocuous!”  And like a flash, my older daughter turned on me, one hand on hip and the other with finger wagging in my face as she addressed my slippage in the parenting department while her eyes rolled around in her head.

OUTRAGED DAUGHTER:  Mother, you are truly incorrigible!  This child can do no wrong in your eyes!  Do you know what type of ingrate I’m going to have on my hands when he turns sixteen years old, if I let him get away with this type of sassiness at five years old?  Who are you and what did you do with my mother?  Do you remember the time I royally sassed you, and you popped me upside my head when I was a teenager?  Do you remember how I got all full of myself and threatened to call the child-abuse hot line?  And what did you say, alien-woman-who-claims-to-be-my-mother?  Huh?

ME:  I said something like, “EXCELLENT!  Let me dial the number for you, so that the Po-Po will come right away and take me to jail, because at least I will get a good night’s sleep without having to put up with mouthy teenagers.  I haven’t slept through the night since you and your sister got your periods and decided to become ‘all that and a bag of chips.’  I could use a good rest from tussling with ‘little women’…”  And then I started talking to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost (or whoever else would listen):  “Can you believe this child?  Oh, Lawd have mercy!  Jesus, help me—help me Jesus, ‘cause this baby you saw fit to bless me with sure sounds like she wants to leave this world mouth first and return to you!  Good God, Almighty!”

OUTRAGED DAUGHTER:  Uh . . . huh!   I rest my case alien mother!

At which point, my five-year-old grandson sensed this to be the perfect timing for him to escape and join his grandfather for a trip to the park, but as he passed me he took full advantage of the situation and whispered to me:  “While we’re on the subject, Mema, you have no idea what this woman does to me when you’re not around.”  To which my daughter replied, as she chased after her son as he giggled hysterically while fleeing down the steps and out the door:  “I HEARD THAT, MISTER!”

Grandchildren award




I am discovering that I have a confession to make: I love being a grandmother, but I did not enjoy being a mother when the kids were—well, kids!  Don’t get me wrong.  I loved (and still do love) my girls—I would have given my life for them in a heartbeat (and still would), but I did not have the patience, the finances, the help, or the support from an extended community that I needed as a mother to give them a Sesame Street life—in other words, a less stressed-out, laid-back life.  (I lived in a warring foreign country when they were first born for several years, and then we moved to a racist, hostile environment in the American south as an interracial family with no relatives, no decent friends, and limited finances during my kids’ formative years—the latter part of which I worked outside the home.)  It took all of my energy and wits just to keep us all strong, thriving, alive, and afloat as an interracial family. There was no time to give “space” for shenanigans, “coloring outside the lines,” “silliness,” or “messiness” in general.  I deeply regret that lack in my mothering journey.

I think the reason I love being a grandmother is because I now have the time, the peace, the graceful living environment, the finances, and the patience to sit and listen—to play.  I no longer have the stress of trying to stay alive and guarding against haters.  Also, I only have one grandchild.  I actually know people who have 14 and counting.  I honestly don’t think I’d do well with that many grandkids—I’m just not that kind of woman.  I can hang with a couple more if they should come along, but I still have to maintain some modicum of order and sanity—that’s just how I roll.  Which is why I am going to hop on a plane to NYC this weekend and take my grandson to his first Broadway play, to which I can hear both my daughters’ screaming:  “HEY, WHAT’S UP WITH THAT?  YOU NEVER TOOK US TO SEE A BROADWAY SHOW!”  To which I will reply:  “Well, if I wasn’t so busy feeding and clothing you and trying to keep you alive, maybe I could have taken you to Broadway and NYC.  Besides, didn’t the truck-and-bus shows count as “Broadway cred” that wandered through town every now and then?”

Cap Amer II Frame




“A mother becomes a true grandmother the day she stops noticing the terrible things her children do because she is so enchanted with the wonderful things her grandchildren do.”—Lois Wyse

 “I have been grateful for the influence of my grandmother and my grandfather in my life. I remember my grandmother as a queenly woman. My father could be stern, and my grandparents would remind him that we were just boys.”—James E. Faust

“When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.”—Sophia Loren

Grandparents spoil



WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (Paperback and Kindle).

Happy Mothers Day Card Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

CARTOON USED WITH PERMISSION: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.



Posted by on May 5, 2016 in Uncategorized


Tags: , , , ,


Do you know what I discovered today?  I am back home, which may come as a surprise to my readers because you thought I was home all along during my much-announced spring break.  Well . . . you see, what had happened was . . .

I started off the week with great intentions:  to commune with nature while I pulled together my garden for the season.  What could be better?  But if you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, you will know that in my new retirement abode, I am at war with the moles, the voles, and the deer.  Everyone told me when I moved here that I would lose that war with these creatures (my home backs up to a nature preserve), but I refused to believe them. And then the pollen swirled and landed—like an apocalyptic yellow blanket causing me to sneeze my head off every time I poked my Allegra-saturated noggin out of the house to spray some animal-go-away spray at a pesky creature.  Everything was covered in yellow dust, making me want to personally ring Mother Nature’s neck.  So several days after I announced in my blog that I was going to spend my entire spring break working outside in my yard, I threw away the garden shovel, the Mole-b-gone, the allergy meds, and the Deer FU spray and surrendered my land to its original inhabitants and their allergy dust.  (Have you ever noticed that squirrels, birds, moles, voles, and deer don’t sneeze even when they are knee deep in pollen as they devour your newly planted mole and deer resistant shrubs which have cost you hundreds of dollars?  What’s up with that?)

Garden Issues Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon Used by Permission: Dave Granlund,

I came indoors and tried to work on my third book, but I soon lost interest because I couldn’t see through the film of allergy tears streaming down my cheeks, puffy frog-eyes, and allergy snot dripping from my nose like a broken faucet.  (Apparently, pollen can still get into a hermetically sealed house—who knew?)  Blowing my nose every third word became a chore, so I figured that maybe I needed a rest from both my garden and my writing and turned to that great intellectual stimulation:  Facebook.

Let me make one thing clear:  I hate Facebook.  So you know that I have to be pretty desperate if I start trolling that colossal waste of time.  Since FB changed its format by adding “like” options, I have to confess that I don’t have a clue how to use them or even if I want to use them, but I thought I’d give them that good ol’ college try and figure the system out.  After fiddling around with a few of Facebook’s “like” options on some of my friends’ pages, I got bored as hell and wanted to kill myself.  (How do people spend day in and day out cruising FB pages without going insane?)  I swear I left 30% of my brain cells on the Altar of Zuckerman as I tried to “connect” with “friends” and saw an eternity’s worth of pictures of “the most delicious meal I’ve eaten—ever,” the greatest vacation, the most adorable babies crawling, walking, pooping, or gurgling like every other baby in the world who has done so since the beginning of time.  AUUUGH!

Facebook Likes Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

And don’t even get me started on the news.  When my news feed began to alternate between that demon Trump’s Neanderthal antics . . .

Trump Lord of Darkness John Cole The Scranton TimesTribune

. . . or whether my vagina was going to be a matter of inspection by the toilet police the next time I walked into a North Carolina restroom, I almost lost it.

Restroom Rules Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune

This was supposed to be a time of rest for me but I was so restless—so fucking bored and agitated that I was beginning to get on even Jesus’ nerves!  I mean I realized the problem was me.  My equilibrium was off.  The politics, the madness, and the chaos had sucked out my sense of well-being, and I didn’t know how to get it back until my sweet man (WW—“White and Wonderful”) came to the rescue.  (WW always comes to the rescue when I’m like this—frazzled, overwrought, and not much good to myself or anybody else.)

WW:  Hey Cutie, I know what you need—a change of scenery to foster a different mindset without any access to news or moles.

ME:  I’m intrigued.  Tell me more.

WW:  What has seven islands, monkeys, lizards, diamonds, and lots of sea and sand?  Is your passport up-to-date?  Can you say rum punch three times fast without tripping up your tongue?

ME:  Okay, I give up.  What?

WW:  A 12-day cruise to Aruba, Curacao, St. Lucia, St. Kitts, Barbados, Antigua, and St. Maarten.

ME:  SHUT UP!?!  When do we leave?

WW:  As soon as you can pack.  BUT . . . you have to promise me one thing:  you cannot watch any news for twelve days, and you must swear that you will retool your mind to live more in the moment.

ME:  Really, Yoda, How do I do that?

WW:   I have no idea, but we’re not getting any younger and life as we know it is slip-sliding away at a depressingly fast rate.  How about focusing on being mindful in the moment instead of stressing out about what is going to happen tomorrow or worrying about things you can’t control?  In fact, I bought you a few thousand books to consider as traveling/reading companions:  Mindfulness: An Eight-Week Plan for Finding Peace in a Frantic World, Mindfulness for Beginners: Reclaiming the Present Moment and Your Life, Mindfulness in Plain English, Little Book of Mindfulness: 10 minutes a day to less stress, more peace, Mindfulness: Mindfulness For Anxiety Relief—How To Use Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction Meditation Exercises…, Mindfulness in Everyday Life: How to Stop Worries and Stress and Enjoy Peace and Happiness with Mindfulness and…, Wherever You Go, There You Are…

ME:  Okay, okay, I get your point.  I’ll go away with you and try and get my sanity back.  IN THE MEANTIME I’M GOING ON A CRUISE!

Celebrity Cruise Ship

CELEBRITY ECLIPSE, Photo Credit by E. Tomczyk

Along with my bathing suit, my Gucci shades, my sea-sickness bands, and the latest Adele album, I packed Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Wherever You Go There You Are, and I began to forget all about Trump and Cruz, moles and voles, ISIS and chaos, and a Republican Party gone completely mad.  I became one with my surroundings and the world became my oyster.

Iggy the Iguana

IGGY THE IGUANA: Photo Credit by E. Tomczyk

It didn’t take me long to get into my new state of mindfulness, and boy did my world open up when I started paying attention to what was in front of me and not what I feared would happen tomorrow or mourn over what had happened yesterday.  I met a little dude called Iggy the Iguana in Curacao.  He told me how much he loved a mosquito-rum cocktail and how much he hated owls and snakes.  How the world would be a much better place without either of those predators, thank you very much.  I tended to agree with him about the snakes.

Willemstads Harbour Curacao By Mtmelendez at the English language Wikipedia

Willemstads Harbour Curacao: Photo Credit by Mtmelendez at the English language, Wikipedia

Curacao took my breath away, and I considered moving there for a nano-second because they have no moles and voles. I swear it looked like what I had imagined heaven to be, but WW said he liked his mole/vole retirement space back in Virginia, and maybe I was taking this mindfulness thing a little too seriously.

Turtles for sale

WATER BOARD BUSINESSMAN: Photo Credit by E. Tomczyk

I became friends with a camera-shy, water-board businessman who tried to sell me two turtles for $20 (“han crafted by me own hans, darlin’, right out of volcanic rock”), which I later discovered were made in China, sold on all seven islands, and were probably worth seventy-five cents apiece.  But in my new “zen state” I thought his scam was hysterical as I exclaimed to my husband:  “I’m being cheated by one of the locals—isn’t life simply delightful” (said no one ever!).


GROS AND PETIT PITONS IN ST. LUCIA: Photo Credit by E. Tomczyk

I sailed past the Gros and Petit Pitons in a sailboat in total silence, and I was humbled by the realization of the power of what a volcanic eruption can do.  According to Wikipedia, “at least 148 plant species have been recorded on Gros Piton, 97 on Petit Piton and the intervening ridge, among them eight rare tree species. The Gros Piton is home to some 27 bird species . . . three indigenous rodents, one opossum, three bats, eight reptiles and three amphibians.”

Catamarans II

CATAMARAN #5: Photo Credit by E. Tomczyk

I lost count of the catamarans I went on—chillin’ with my rum punch while WW went snorkeling.  IMP. NOTE:  I don’t do water—anyone who knows me knows this is one diva who does not immerse herself in wet stuff.  In fact, one of the captains of one of the myriad catamarans I sailed on “playfully” threatened to throw me overboard to join my husband, whether I wanted to snorkel or not.  Without missing a beat, I emerged from my “mindfulness” mindset and announced to all who had ears to hear (including the angels in heaven and the fishes in the sea):  “Young man, if you toss me overboard, the next thing you will be doing is singing with Jesus because I will personally kill you.”  He bowed in homage to me, gave me two more rum punches, and I returned to my zen-like state of “being in tune with where I was.”

St. Martins

ST. MAARTEN: Photo Credit by E. Tomczyk

The Diva took a tempting stroll down diamond row in St. Maartens and almost got hooked on a cute little bracelet that was simply “to die for,” but at the last moment remembered that she had enough bling to last a lifetime, and that greed was unbecoming to her new spiritual state of just “being.”

monkey 2


Ran into Marvin Gay in St. Kitts.   He told me that he was a Vervent monkey, and he and his peeps rule that island. He said his ancestors came to St. Kitts on the slave ships from Africa in the 1600s as pets to the French.  Says his great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather helped lead a Vervent monkey revolt against their owners during the local wars in 1666 between the British and the French, and that his ancestors escaped their cages and roamed the island in gangs raiding crops and causing horrendous mischief.  He said if I didn’t believe him, I should check out the diary of one Father Labat, a French Priest.  I told him I would do as he instructed if he promised not to shit on my husband’s head (he looked like he was contemplating just such an action).  When I got back to the ship, I checked out the following essay from the library which sported the following quote about Marvin Gay’s relatives:

“Their [Vervent] frolics are mischievous, their thefts dexterous. They are subtle enemies and false friends. When pursued, they fly to the mountain and laugh at their pursuers, as they are little ashamed of a defeat as a French admiral or general. In short, they are the torment of planters; they destroy whole cane pieces in a few hours and come in troops from the mountain, whose trees afford them shelter. No methods to get the better of them has yet been found out.”—Professor Frank Ervin or a member of his team at the Behavioral Science Foundation located at Estridge Estate on St. Kitts in response to a request from the St. Christopher Heritage Society

WW and Monkey


Marvin kept his word, and I maintained my mindfulness—amazed what one can learn when one is mindful.  (Who knew that iguanas and monkeys could communicate in English?)


Photo Credit:  E. Tomczyk, My Man and Me doin’ the “Mindful” thing



I am discovering that according to Jon Kabat-Zinn the lack of mindfulness “…scavenges to fill time, conspires with my mind to keep me unconscious and lulled in a fog of numbness to a certain extent. It has me unavailable to others, missing the play of the light on the table, the smells in the room, the energies of the moment.  Stillness, insight, and wisdom arise only when we can settle into being complete in this moment, without having to seek or hold on to or reject anything.”

All joking aside, I am trying to turn over a new leaf.  I think this mindfulness thing is what I need at this stage.  If at almost 68, I can’t settle down and smell the island flowers then I don’t know when I’m going to do so because at this point of my journey, this life is as good as it gets for me.  Of course, maybe mindfulness is just learning how to pay attention—period.



“Mindfulness is about love and loving life. When you cultivate this love, it gives you clarity and compassion for life, and your actions happen in accordance with that.”Jon Kabat-Zinn

“Mindfulness helps us freeze the frame so that we can become aware of our sensations and experiences as they are, without the distorting coloration of socially conditioned responses or habitual reactions.”Henepola Gunaratana

 “When you have children, you realize how easy it is to not see them fully, and perhaps miss all those early years. If you are not careful, you can be too absorbed in work, and they will be only too happy to tell you about it later. Being a parent is one of greatest mindfulness practices of all.”Jon Kabat-Zinn

“I’m pretty much done with mindfulness. I’m just going to start paying attention.”Gina Barreca



WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (hardcopy and Kindle).

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on April 24, 2016 in Uncategorized


Tags: , , , ,


Do you know what I discovered this week?  It is the Easter season, which means I need to take a short break—give or take a week or two—to plant my garden.  I do this every year.   During a two-week break in the spring, I use that time to abstain from blogging, get off the Internet, don’t read or listen to the news, and take an assessment of my sorry-ass soul by communing with nature and my God.  I allow myself to be rejuvenated from all the negativity in our world so that I can emerge from my bucolic surrounding after my short staycation as a much calmer person who is ready to continue to fight the good fight as a voice of reason and goodwill.

Well, the other day, the daffodils were out, the crocuses were sprouting, and several blue jays flew past my breakfast window just as I was about to post a note on my blog that says, “See you in two weeks, Pumpkins” when I received a “ping” on my phone which signaled an urgent alert:



Easter Bunny is Dead

I was in a state of shock!  Was this an April fool’s joke?  Had the Easter Bunny pissed off Donald Trump, and his followers did away with all the bunnies?  (Come to think of it, we used to have scores of rabbits who lived in my flower beds, but I haven’t seen any of them in months. I thought I had inadvertently chased the rabbits away with the sonic radar system I had installed to scare off my hated enemies, the moles.  Now I am not so sure.)

As I sat down for a brief pause after sodding the holes in my lawn left by the nasty-ass squirrels who hate my guts (that’s an entirely different story), I fell asleep on the deck and dreamed I was listening to a radio interview between the last bunny on Earth and Larry King.  That great octogenarian interviewer who could get to the truth about anything from even the nuttiest individuals and situations.

Larry King Pat Bagley Salt Lake Tribune

Larry King Interviewing Sarah Palin and Mark Sanford

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, Salt Lake Tribune

LARRY:  Tonight, an Easter Bunny exclusive—the rabbit who many thought to be dead and gone!  We’ll take you inside Mr. Bunny’s palatial hiding place where—breaking his long silence—we’ll discuss the rumors of his vanishing, the nature of his mental health, and the hopelessness our planet has been left with by his unexplained absence.  We’ll talk about the sorry state of the Earth, his universal hand in promoting Easter, and if he feels that his activities threw “shade” on the Messiah’s life and gift to the world.  What stories can he tell about his association with the Christ?  A rare emotional hour coming up next on Larry King Live.


LARRY:  It’s a great pleasure to welcome the Easter Bunny to the show tonight.  He has been the representative of Easter to children since the 1700s in Germany, and made his debut in America in the great state of Pennsylvania as “Osterhase” in the 1800s by local immigrants from the Palatinate region of Germany—according to Patrick Donmoyer of the Pennsylvania German Heritage Center at Kutztown University.   Great to have you on the show Easter Bunny.  Let’s get right down to the nitty-gritty tonight.  Where have you been?  Everyone thought you were dead.

EASTER BUNNY:  Larry, it is an honor to be here with you tonight.  I think you’re about as old as I am, and you’re still kicking.  It’s hard to get rid of us old geezers.

LARRY:  Well, I think you’re ahead of me by a couple hundred years, although on some days, I feel as if I might have been born in the 1800s!  These bones aren’t getting any younger, that’s for sure.  Anyway, there is a strong rumor going around that you died.  I believe the National Enquirer first broke the story, but obviously you are very much alive.  I was stunned when your people reached out to my people to refute the rumor about your much reported death.  What’s going on, Bunny?

EASTER BUNNY:  What’s going on, Larry, is that I have retired and gone into seclusion. I can’t take it anymore.  There is nowhere safe on the Earth to go about my business of spreading the good news of hope and redemption without being besieged by mayhem, chaos, and murder.  From here to there, from sea to shining sea, it is all about warring, hatred, and killing.  I am saddened to the core.  I had to retire before I died of a broken heart.

European Easter Marian Kemensky Slovakia

Cartoon used by permission: Marian Kemensky Slovakia

LARRY:  But I saw footage of you as road-kill on CNN earlier this month.  Was that all a ruse?

EASTER BUNNY:  I’m ashamed to say it, but I staged my own death, Larry, with the help of some of my friends.  It was a complete hoax.  I needed an exit plan, and that seemed to be the best one.

LARRY:  Well, the obvious question is “why?”  We need all the hope and levity we can get in this world, Mr. Bunny.  Besides, how am I going to live without my Cadbury Crème Egg fix?

EASTER BUNNY:  Old Man, you’ll just have to suck it up and get over it.  Besides, didn’t you have a major heart attack awhile back?  You’re not supposed to be eating those chocolate diabetic bombs anyway.  My point is that I no longer have the courage or the strength to try to bring levity and joy to the world.  It all seems to be a lost cause.  Besides, the job doesn’t have the same pizazz that it used to have anymore.

Cracked Easter Egg Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission:  Dave Granlund,

LARRY:  Really, how so?

EASTER BUNNY:  First of all, it used to be a fabulous job.  I could call my own hours, and every day at the office was casual Friday.  I was respected in all the lands my little fat legs could hop to, and on top of it all, the mission was pretty awesome:  “Rebirth and renewal is yours for the asking because spring has sprung!”  Children loved me by the way.  Never met a kid I didn’t like.  If it was just the kids, I’d never stop, but many of their parents are freakin’ insane.  All these adults are so full of hate and malice. I can’t take it anymore, Larry—I just can’t take it!  I’m disillusioned, worn out, and pissed off.  This is not the job I signed up for, so that is the reason I faked my own death.  Let’s see how the world gets along without Mr. Easter Bunny on the scene.  So there!

Easter Bunny Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Bob Englehart,

LARRY:  Well, it seems to me that Easter has never been about you, Easter Bunny—your job, your colored eggs, your treats, or your cotton-tailed disillusionment.  I mean I’m Jewish, but I realize that Easter is a Christian holiday celebrating the hope, the redemption, and the renewal given by the Messiah that you think has already come.  The Jewish tradition has us still waiting on our Messiah, but that is another discussion for another day.  (Wouldn’t it be ironic if our Messiah and your Messiah turned out to be the same dude, but we got our calendars all screwed up as to his arrival and departure times?)

Anyway, I do understand Easter through the eyes of “Pesach” (what you Christians call “Passover”), because it is the celebration of the liberation by God of my people via Moses from slavery in Egypt.  From my understanding of the New Testament, Jesus came to Earth so that mankind would see firsthand what it was like to witness the selfless characteristics of God (love, joy, peace, grace, and mercy) embodied in human form so that mankind would change their ways and start treating each other as they were created to do.  Your Messiah gave his life so that you would be liberated from your sins (hate, murder, rape, meanness, greed, cruelty—the list of chaos is endless), and I don’t recall any record of rabbits, jelly beans, and Cadbury eggs being in the tomb where the Christ arose on the third day to manifest that hope of liberation and renewal—kind of like Moses getting my peeps out of the bondage of slavery and crossing through the Red Sea to a new life of freedom.  I don’t think it is a coincidence that Passover and Easter are celebrated around the same time every year.

You’re just a messenger, Little Dude—pointing to the hope of the world.  So what do you have to say for yourself, Easter Bunny?  Seems like you’re needed now more than ever.

Meaning of Easter Parker Florida Today

Cartoon used by permission: Parker, Florida Today

EASTER BUNNY:  Oh!  I never thought of it that way.  But how can I be responsible for that knowledge?  I’m just an animal with two long ears, long hind legs, and a short white bushy tail.  I never knew him—this Jesus.  I’m just a working schmuck trying to make a living.  All I was told to do was announce spring, help dye eggs, and keep the jelly beans coming until children were comatose from sugar.  This other stuff you’ve been telling me is way beyond my pay grade.

LARRY:  Ignorance of the truth is no excuse, Easter Bunny.  If you don’t know what to do—do something!  We are all responsible for doing what we have to do to make the world a better place.

EASTER BUNNY:  Yeah, I get it.  And who knows, maybe I’ll be able to strike a blow for justice and peace.  I travel here, there, and everywhere with my arsenal of eggs, beans, and marshmallow peeps.  The bad guys would never see me coming.  I cross international borders—maybe I could become a spy.  My God, maybe I could help win the war on terrorism!  HOLY JELLY BEANS, LARRY—I’M COMIN’ OUT OF RETIREMENT!!

Antiterror Bunny Marian Kemensky Slovakia

Cartoon used by permission Marian Kemensky, Slovakia

LARRY:  I guess you are, Little Rabbit, I guess you are!  God speed, and don’t forget to leave some Cadbury crème eggs with my assistant.

Well, you heard it here folks:  Bunny Rabbit is alive and well, and returning to his job.  He is not dead!  If you see him out and about, give him a big hug and let him know what a good job he’s doing reminding us that there is more to life than terrorists, poverty, hatred, war, and Donald Trump.  There is hope for the human race and embracing the Easter festivities with our children helps lighten the weariness and meaningless aspects of life.

Easter Sunrise Parker Florida Today

Cartoon used by permission: Parker, Florida Today



I am discovering what I rediscover every spring when I go on retreat to renew my perspective—that I have hope for our world because there is a God who created us all—and loves us dearly.  I am discovering that “love wins”—whether it is Christ’s love for a screwed up world, or my love for my neighbor.  I know that there are those who “claim” to know God and claim to be doing his bidding who instigate nothing but bigotry, pain, and murder, but they are only posers and will not last forever and will not triumph in the end—haters never do. In the meantime, I do not lose hope for our world because of the vision that Easter proclaims to me:


I Am Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund,

See you in two weeks, my friends. Don’t lose the faith; keep on keepin’ on; never give up trying to make the world a better place, and every other cliché I can remember.


Easter International Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund



“A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act.”Mahatma Gandhi

“Easter is meant to be a symbol of hope, renewal, and new life.”Janine di Giovanni

 “Easter tells us of something children can’t understand, because it addresses things they don’t yet have to know: the weariness of life, the pain, the profound loneliness and hovering fear of meaninglessness.”Frederica Mathewes-Green

“I really do believe that God is love, one of deep affection and grace and forgiveness and inspiration.”William P. Young




WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (Paperback and Kindle).


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.



Posted by on March 26, 2016 in Uncategorized


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Do you know what I discovered about famous people dying and their subsequent media coverage?  Just recently Harper Lee, Pat Conroy, Nancy Reagan, and Angela “Big Ang” Raiola (breakout star of Mob Wives) died, and within hours—sometimes minutes—everything from multi-paragraphs to multi-pages of obituaries were published.  It was freaky.  I learned that obituaries of famous people are written long before their deaths if they are terminally ill, old, or habitually self-destructive.  That way, when they do kick the bucket, the Media can be Johnny-on-the-spot and publish their obits in a timely manner.

When I awoke this morning and read the news about Donald Trump’s significant wins on Super Tuesday, I could hear the death knell for the GOP, and I knew what I had to do:  write an obit for the Republican Party whose inevitable demise is on its way, if it hasn’t happened already.  I thought it would be rather entertaining to “very loosely” base the GOP’s obituary on bits and pieces of the actual one that was used for Abraham Lincoln as taken from page 1 of The New York Times, April 16, 1865.  (I couldn’t resist the irony.)

Repub Hari Kari Daryl Cagle CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Daryl Cagle,



Reality Show Actor Donald Trump Believed to be the Assassin

By Blogger, Eleanor L. Tomczyk


Party of Lincoln David Fitzsimmons,The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

It is now ascertained with reasonable certainty that multiple assassins (led by a gang leader) were engaged in this horrible crime against the Grand Old Party.  The leaderan actor named Donald Trumpwas the one who engaged in the final kill shot against the GOP, and the other companions of his (Republican Congress, Tea Party, Birthers, Mitch McConnell, Citizens United, Koch Brothers, Fox News, Right-Wing Radio), are being hunted down for their complicity in the Elephant’s demise even as this obit goes to press.  Vivid descriptions of Trump’s accomplices (racism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, greed, and violence) have been posted all over the nation’s media outlets so that they can hardly escape unnoticed. It appears from intelligence collected from the GOP’s murder scene that the assassination has been a long time coming, but it previously stalled out because it was believed that the Republican Party had an adult—Jeb Bush—who they thought would carry the day, and thus extend its life a little longer.  But Mr. Trump slaughtered Bush in a high profile shoot-out earlier in the year, and then rode on to Florida to commit the dastardly deed against the Grand Old Party itself.

Trump eating the Gop Pat Bagley Salt Lake Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, Salt Lake Tribune

The official notice of the death of the GOP was given by the Media this morning to the American public, and the memorial arrangements were announced:

      First—the arrangements for the funeral of the late GOP were referred to the Republican Establishment which is in a state of disbelief and is trying to broker a convention in Cleveland to resurrect the Elephant from the dead.  All the Bible-believing Evangelicals have been called upon to fast and pray for this miracle.

      Second—The Great Latino Hope (Marco Rubio) went into hiding with his tail between his legs after being mortally wounded by a stray bullet from The Donald in his assassination attempt against the GOP.  Rubio was last seen sobbing his heart out in the Florida Everglades as he lamented:

“My whole life I’ve been told being humble is a virtue, and now being humble is a weakness and being vain and self-absorbed is somehow a virtue. My whole life I’ve been told no matter how you feel about someone, you respect everyone because we are all children of the same God—and now being respectful to one another is considered political correctness.”


Rubio and Florida Dave Granlun, Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund,

In the meantime, Nancy Reagan, the wife of the “god” the GOP worships, was high-fiving her fortune teller in the Great Beyond for escaping the Earth just in time to be with her man before she had to witness the assassination of the Republican Party by Donald Trump and the Duck Dynasty set.

Nancy Reagan Disappointment David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

The assassin left behind at the crime scene a brilliant display of the rancor and violence he would use to pull the Party together now that he had accomplished his goal of obliterating the GOP.  When asked by CNN host Chris Cuomo what Mr. Trump would do if he ended up in Cleveland a few delegates shy of 1,237 and the party leaders demand a contested GOP convention, he gave a bone-chilling answer: 

“I think you’d have riots.”

“[I’m] representing many millions of people: If you disenfranchise those people, and you say, ‘I’m sorry, you’re 100 votes short’…I think you’d have problems like you’ve never seen before. I think bad things would happen.”

Trump Leprechaun Threats Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

The GOP’s body was removed from Florida and has been embalmed.  The Grand Old Party of Lincoln was wrapped in the American flag, and it has continued across the country for proper viewing by the American people at various primaries and will arrive in Cleveland in July where it will be put to rest.  It will be America’s last chance to see the remains of a once proud political group who helped Abraham Lincoln free the slaves.

Flags over the Republican Establishment hearts are at half-mast. Scarcely any business is being transacted anywhere either on private or public account.

The bells are tolling mournfully. All the Republicans are in the deepest gloom and sadness. Strong men weep in the streets.  China is using Donald Trump’s antics and vulgarity as a warning to its citizens about the dangers of democracy.  The grief is wide-spread and deep—in strange contrast to the joy that was so greatly manifested around the world when Barack Hussein Obama won the Presidential election—not once—but twice. 

This is indeed a day of gloom.  RIP GOP!

Future of Gop John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: John Cole, The Scranton-Times Tribune



I am discovering that as I meditate on the very real aspect that Donald Trump may be our Republican nominee for the President of the United States, I understand that this will probably destroy the GOP as we’ve come to know it—shatter it into a million pieces.  Maybe that will be a good thing.  I don’t rejoice over this.  I used to be a Republican, and I think our country needs a two (or more) party system to keep us in balance.  But I don’t feel very sorry for my Republican friends because they brought this on themselves.  When Trump spearheaded the birther movement against President Obama (knowing full well, that every charge was a lie), the Republican Establishment “winked” and thought it was a hoot.  When Mitch McConnell declared that he would lead the Republican Congress in a charge to make Obama a one-term President and obstruct him at every turn, the rest of the GOP cheered and rushed in to help.  When the jerk, Joe Wilson, screamed at President Obama in the midst of a State of the Union address, “You lie!” the rest of the Republicans applauded the consummate disrespect of a sitting president.  In the midst of all this, they got into bed with big business, big money, and special interests—leaving the middle class behind to slide into poverty, and the poor to slide into Hell.  Now they wonder why so many people are so pissed at them.  So angry that 67% of Republicans are willing to lend their support to an assassin.

To all my dear sisters and brothers in the Republican Party who refused to speak up against the sins of the GOP all those years ago, up to today’s obstructionism by Congress against the President’s pick for the next Supreme Court Judge—I give you Donald Trump.  Karma is truly a bitch!

Supreme Court Obama choice Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund,



WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (Paperback and Kindle).

Supreme Court obstruction David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on March 17, 2016 in Uncategorized


Tags: , , , , , ,


(This week’s post is about the results of Super Tuesday amongst the Republican candidates and is very loosely based on the Frankenstein horror story by ‎Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, written in 1818.  My humble apologies to Mrs. Shelley for upstaging her monster who almost looks tame compared to mine.)

Frankenstein cartoon Dan Piraro

Cartoonist Dan Piraro,

Do you know what I discovered when I awoke on the morning after Super Tuesday?  I had had a dream.  A dream so filled with horror that I doubt I’ll be able to shake its effects for a very, very long time.  It was a dream that filled my heart with terror and my mind with unshakeable images.  But wait:  lest you think I exaggerate, let me recount the tale, and you can judge for yourself.


I dreamt that I was a captain of a mighty ship.  My name was Captain Jane Walton of the Clear Vision Shipping Company.  My ship was the Pure of Heart and this was its maiden voyage which had set sail for the Port of True North.  We had been at sea for many months when we encountered a rather large being on a battered lifeboat that had seen better days.  Both lifeboat and being seemed to be on their last legs, so to speak, and were sinking fast.

I ordered my crew to rescue the creature, and after much exertion they managed to bring the mutilated lump aboard.  It was hard to tell what its original form was at first.  Man, woman, animal, alien?  Who could tell because it was broken and shattered into what seemed like a million pieces.  As the form unfolded on the deck, I realized it was an elephant—albeit barely recognizable due to its lacerations and multiple bruises.  The elephant was incoherent and could barely stand up.

Shattered Republicans Daryl Cagle CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Daryl Cagle,

“Creature, what is your name,” I asked?  “And what brings you to such a desperate moment in such a watery grave?”

“My name is Dr. GOP Frankenstein,” replied the discombobulated creature as he gasped for air.  “I was beaten and pulverized by a creature of my own making, and he set me adrift to die at sea.  Had you not come along dear Captain, all would have been lost.”

I could tell that the elephant had once been a stately fellow, but little of its original grandeur remained.  As my brain recalled a long forgotten history of a pachyderm that had represented a people who were part of Abraham Lincoln’s Party—the emancipator of the slaves—I grew sad at how far it had fallen.

As I nursed Dr. Frankenstein back to health, he began to share the incredible story of his downfall with me.  The doctor told me he was born in 1854—birthed in opposition to the Kansas–Nebraska Act which was trying to extend slavery into the territories.  He was a party that in its heyday had been supported by everyone from White Protestants, to factory workers, to farmers, to abolitionists, and African-Americans.  But somewhere along the way, he had lost his vision and went in search of the secret to encompassing total greed and ultimate power and discovered that what he sought existed on the island of Ayn Rand-NRA.  Their nation’s motto is:  “I’ve got mine, too bad you don’t have yours—it sure sucks for you!  Now get out of my face before I blow your brains out with my ‘2nd Amendment Right-to-Carry AK-15.’”

Convinced that he had enough knowledge to construct a super mini-me to take over the land of White House and gain control of the country’s citizens, Dr. GOP Frankenstein created a being out of different body parts:  a self-righteous form of Christianity, obstructionism, greed, racism, self-centeredness, crudeness, sexism, and the poorly educated.  The organs of the creature were anti-Muslim, pro-guns, anti-taxation, anti-Obama, anti-abortion, anti-immigration, and anti-climate control.

One fateful night, Dr. Frankenstein threw the electrical switch and voila! A monster was born:  Frankenstein Trump!

Trump revuses to avow David Duke Milt Priggee www.miltpriggee com

Cartoon used by permission: Milt Priggee

Unlike his namesake in the story of old (Dr. “Victor” Frankenstein), GOP was at first elated with his creation.  When Frankenstein Trump fled to the land of Birther and relentlessly accused the first Black President of the United States of not being born in America, his creator didn’t stop the monster’s onslaught.  In fact, Dr. Frankenstein smugly smiled to himself and gleefully cheered behind closed doors because he had made a vow to destroy Citizen Barack Obama and make him a one-term President.  When Frankenstein Trump threatened to ban all Muslims from entering the country and building a giant wall to the heavens to keep out all Mexicans, Dr. GOP cheered—immigration of the brown people south of the border solved—check!  When the monster seduced the White Evangelicals, White disgruntled men, White supremacists, and the poorly educated, forcing Dr. Frankenstein to create another monster and turn them into the Bride of Frankenstein, Dr. GOP facilitated the making of a monster bride and pretended it was for the saving of America Land.  This was good, GOP thought—this was power—this was the way to the land of White House!  The more inept and corrupt the monster became, the more his creator looked away until it was too late.

February 26, 2016

February 26, 2016

Cartoon used by permission: Adam Zyglis, The Buffalo News

On March 1st—known as Super Tuesday—Frankenstein Trump escaped from his creator and devoured some of Dr. GOP’s favorite sons.  Frankenstein Trump had turned into a raging, blustering, crude, no-nothing bully.  But the monster had become “HUUUGE” and strong, and try as he could, Dr. Frankenstein was unable to reign in his misguided creature.  For the first time the doctor was afraid—very afraid.   By the time I rescued him that fateful night, Dr. GOP was beside himself.  He said he had “tried everything to stop his creation’s momentum, but nothing was working.”  It was looking like—unless a miracle happened—that Frankenstein Trump would be President Trump of the greatest country on Earth in November, and Dr. GOP would splinter into a million pieces—never to be heard from again.  The process had already begun.

What was not known until Dr. Frankenstein confessed it to me is that Frankenstein Trump was not his first monster creation.  GOP had created the Cuban twins Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz—one he adored, the other he despised.  Both hated their most recent brother-creation and vowed to destroy him for the sake of their father.

Marco Rubio David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

Ted Cruz is going to Save us from Trump David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

But Frankenstein Trump just poked them both in the eyes and laughed in their faces while Dr. GOP Frankenstein sobbed over the monster he had assembled.   The Doc told me of a plan to make a multimillion-dollar assault against Frankenstein Trump by carpet bombing Florida, Illinois, and Ohio with a ruthless ad blitz to stop the monster from winning the Republican nomination.  I laughed because even I knew it was too little too late.  I could hear the voice of Alex Castellanos (a veteran media consultant) blowing in the wind, who had attempted an earlier “Stop Frankenstein Trump” assault and failed:  “A fantasy effort to stop Trump. . . exists only as the denial stage of grief.”

Trump Acceptance by GOP Bill Day Cagle Cartoons

Cartoon used by permission:  Bill Day, Cagle Cartoons

Dr. GOP left my ship when we pulled into the Harbor of Sanity, and we haven’t spoken face-to-face since.  Every once and awhile I hear voices blowing in the wind mingled with screams coming from the hills.   The monster keeps screaming, “I win, I win—losers,” and tepidly taunting his haters with comments like “I won’t disavow the KKK, OK” as he shouts to his hyped-up village followers: “I WILL MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN,” as the villagers raise their pitch forks and rifles in salute to him: “Frankenstein, Frankenstein, you’re our man—if you can’t save us, no one can!”  And if I listen carefully, I hear the blood-curdling screams of Dr. GOP whose soul the creature has fractured and is devouring inch by inch—bit by bit.

Super Tuesday Buffet Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle



I am discovering that as I go about my daily life, praying that the Almighty God will protect my country from the demon that Dr. GOP has wrought, I wonder how many lives he will devour before finally being destroyed.   Recently one evening, as I double-checked to see that all the doors in my home were barred against the invasion of this monster, I saw a news conference from his lair—Mar-a-Lago.  There Frankenstein Trump stood in all his glory—beating his chest and crowing his victory over his creator, Dr. GOP.  It was a sight to behold, but nothing was more cringe-worthy than seeing the chubby-ass monster he had enslaved—Governor Chris Christie.  There the Governor of New Jersey stood—in invisible chains, silently screaming—looking just as one should look when one has sold one’s soul to bask in the presence of an evil entity.  It was then I heard a rumor that the Grand Pooh-bah of the Republican party, Mitt Romney, thinks that “Donald Trump is a phony, a fraud” and that he’s “playing the American public for suckers”  and “under Trump, America would cease to be a shining city on a hill.”  But all that did was confuse me.  Wasn’t Romney the “good Mormon” man who had basked in the glory of Frankenstein Trump’s embrace just four years ago?   Didn’t this Mormon man of God—an elder in his church—say that “Having his [Trump’s] endorsement is a delight . . .” That he was “honored and pleased” and that it “meant a great deal to have his [Trump’s] endorsement?”  Now Romney planned to put on a robe made from a profile in courage to come to the town square, leading a mob to try and kill the monster.

All I could think of as a single tear slid down my left check:  “Oh, Dr. GOP, what hath thou wrought, what have you done?  You have sold our American soul to the Devil!”

Chris Christie's Future Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune



“If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear!” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?”― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“You are my creator, but I am your master; obey!”― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust?”― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“It’s becoming obvious that supporting or not supporting [Trump] isn’t a political choice.  It’s a moral choice. The man is evil.”Tweet by Stuart Stevens, top adviser to Mitt Romney’s presidential campaign in 2012

 “Mr. Trump’s character is antithetical to many of the qualities evangelicals should prize in a political leader: integrity, compassion and reasoned convictions, wisdom and prudence, trustworthiness, a commitment to the moral good. . . . Why a significant number of evangelicals are rallying round a man who exposes them as hypocrites is difficult to fathom.”—Peter Wehner, The New York Times



WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (Paperback and Kindle). 


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.



Posted by on March 3, 2016 in Uncategorized


Tags: , , , , , ,


Do you know what I discovered today, Sunday, February 21, 2016?  It is a day after the Republican Primary in South Carolina where Trump had a resounding victory over the rest of the Republican candidates, and I can’t find a soul who witnessed this debacle to return my call.  I’m specifically trying to connect with the White “Evangelical Christians” who gave Trump such a huge win (no self-respecting Black person would ever vote for this clown), but no one will allow me to interview them.  It’s like they did their dastardly deed and then went into hiding.

Trump Sues Randall Enos Cagle Cartoons

Cartoon used by permission: Randall Enos, Cagle Cartoons

I finally caught up with my alter ego, The Dalai Mama, who sent us the report from New Hampshire last week, but she seemed to be in a state of shock.  (DM looks like me but takes no prisoners, and she has no filter.  She says the things I wish I could say on any given day).  As I connected with her on her cell phone, I immediately noticed how disheartened and exhausted she sounded.

ME:        Hey, DM . . . I’m been trying to reach you since the polls closed last night in South Carolina.  Where have you been?  I need some intel about the SC Primary so that I can write my blog.  I hear that Trump won every single congressional district.  How in the hell did that happen?  Wasn’t there at least one hold out? Tell me it isn’t so.

DM:       Oh, you bet yo’ chubby-little-ol’-ass, it’s so.

ME:        But what happened?

DM:       Best I can tell, the White Christians down here done gone crazy.  They put him over the top.  Nasty-ass Ted Cruz is in a state of shock ‘cause he just knew he had the White Christian vote.  Only thing good about Trump winnin’ is that he beat Cruz’s ass.  You ain’t gonna hear this on “Mornin’ Joe,” Baby, but South Carolina White Christians done lost they ever-lovin’ minds!  Jesus is weepin’ this mornin’, chil’—sobbin’ in his communion cups.  Now you know I ain’t no racist, but I has to emphasize what race done this, ‘cause no self-respectin’ Black folk would ever put this man in office.

ME:        Well, you don’t know that it was all White people who voted for Trump.  I’m sure there were some Black folks who voted for this maniac—we are not a monolithic group.

DM:       Um, um . . . I was there.  Didn’t see nary a Black person.  These White folks think Trump sit at the right hand of Jesus, and that he is the Great White Christian Hope.  Besides, they finally get to participate in what Larry Wilmore calls the “unblackening of the White House.”  No Black folk in they right mind would join in on that—we know a bigot when we sees one, even if he is a billionaire.  He just a rich bigot.  Lawd, have mercy!  Jesus is banging his head against his throne today—I just know he is.

Thank you Jesus for Trump reddit dot com

ME:        Did you ask the people—especially the White Christians—why they voted for Trump?

DM:       Sho’ I did.  They say it ‘cause he tell it like it is.  Say he most like them of all the candidates, and he gonna make America great again.  I’m still tryin’ to figure out what that means.   I didn’t see none of them with any private planes or a super model wife.  I asked a couple of them if they had mansions, maids, and chauffeurs, but not one of them could say they did.  You know what I think it is—they been holdin’ they breath about the Black man in the White House for eight years, and now they gots themselves a leader that say, it’s okay to hate him and to throw in the Mexicans and the Muslims in the pot since they now stirrin’ up themselves some hate stew.

Voting for Trump Meme

ME:        I’m still flummoxed over the fact that so many Christians voted for this Neanderthal.  These are my brothers and sisters in Christ.  Did they not hear what the Pope said about him?  Basically, saying that if the dude was a Christian we would know it by his actions.

DM:       Oh that just made the Trumpets more riled up.  It was like feedin’ steak to a bunch of hungry pit bulls.  “How dare the Pope question our savior Trump’s Christianity?  Who does he think he is—God?”  (Of course, they love it when Trump questions President Obama’s standin’ in Christ, ‘cause they just know the Prez is a Muslim who they hate.)  As to the Pope, suddenly that ol’ hatred for Catholics just bubbled right up to the Southern Baptist surface.  I thought that was long gone—haven’t seen that since John F. Kennedy was President. The Popey better be glad he made his visit to America befo’ Trump become president, because if he had come afterwards, I’d be worrin’ ‘bout the Pope’s safety.  If this Trump character gets into the Oval Office, all races, creeds, and colors—except white Protestant males—will be fair game for ridicule, shame, and bullyin’.

Trump the Christian FB Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star Tribune

ME:        Oh, Dalai.  What are we going to do?  I feel as if we’re being yanked back in time to a nightmare that will never end.

DM:       Can you say, “help me, Jesus—help, help me, Jesus?”  ‘Cause that divine power mixed with every eligible voter who ain’t lost their minds better get out and vote like they lives depend on it come November.  That’s where I’m off to next.  I’m startin’ the “anti-Trump” campaign coupled with the “anti-Cruz” campaign as I go from state to state (might as well bring down the devil’s spawn along with the devil).  I’m gonna shout the truth from the rooftops:  “Wake up you silly-ass Americans—especially you Christians.  This is not what our Lawd Jesus would do!  We done been had!   This clown ain’t like you—he ain’t like Jesus, and you ain’t gonna get no riches, no three wives, no billions, no mansions, no airplanes!  Also, get over yo’selves cause Mexicans, Muslims, Gays, and Black folks are here to stay!”

Trump Supporters David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star



I am discovering that the Christianity I hold so dear has been sold to the highest bidder, and we’ve seen this movie before.  When Hitler rose to power, he did so on the votes of the Lutheran and Catholic churches.  There were a remnant who fought against his election (there will always be a remnant of courageous people who speak out against madness), but for the most part people chanted:  “Hitler, Hitler, he’s our man—if he can’t save us, no one can.”  We have people who call themselves Christians who are pretty pissed that they have been losing what they consider the cultural wars since the 60s (women’s rights, racial equality, and globalization), and they are willing to sacrifice their beliefs in order to get back the world that they have been mourning ever since the 50s.  Not only do I agree with the Pope and question Trump’s character as a so-called “Christian,” but I question the Christian character of the people who overwhelmingly delivered South Carolina into Trump’s hands.  The only thing good about his win is that he beat nasty-ass Cruz who is so mean and heartless that he makes Trump look like Jesus’ sidekick.

Before I turned off the news to post this blog, I heard this quote from Trump:

“We’re going to win so much, you’re going to get tired of winning . . . You’re going to say, ‘Please, Mr. President. I have a headache. Please, don’t win so much. This is getting terrible.’ And I’m going to say, ‘No, we have to make America great again.’ ”

On that note, I screamed bloody murder and asked my husband if he had the heart to pick up and move again so that we could retire to a land where Trump was not the nightmare President I know he will become if given half the chance.   My husband asked me if I had any prospects in mind, and I told him I had just seen an ad on the Internet from a travel bureau in Canada. . . can you say, “Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, here we come!”

Cape Breton

Cape Breton, Nova Scotia



“A Christian reveals true humility by showing the gentleness of Christ, by being always ready to help others, by speaking kind words and performing unselfish acts, which elevate and ennoble the most sacred message that has come to our world.”—Ellen G. White

“I feel like if I live the Christian life, then the people should be able to see it in my everyday actions.”—Quinton Aaron

“The point is that there is tremendous hypocrisy among the Christian right. And I think that Christian voters should start looking at global warming and extreme poverty as a religious issue that speaks to the culture of life.”—Al Franken

“I’m working at trying to be a Christian, and that’s serious business. It’s like trying to be a good Jew, a good Muslim, a good Buddhist, a good Shintoist, a good Zoroastrian, a good friend, a good lover, a good mother, a good buddy – it’s serious business.”—Maya Angelou

“A Muslim fanatic and a Christian fanatic, a Jewish fanatic, a secular fanatic, an atheist fanatic, a communist fanatic – all of them are the same. The thinking that, ‘If you don’t think like me, that if you are not with me, then you are against me;’ this is something to condemn.”—Marjane Satrapi

 “I think there ought to be a strict separation or wall built between our religious faith and our practice of political authority in office. I don’t think the President of the United States should extoll Christianity if he happens to be a Christian at the expense of Judaism, Islam or other faiths.”—Jimmy Carter



WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (hardcopy and Kindle).


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on February 21, 2016 in Uncategorized


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#2016InOneWord: MORTIFIED!

Do you know what I discovered this week?  Every media outlet (on and offline) has gotten on my every last nerve, as my mother used to say.  It’s been wall to wall politics—all day—every day.  If I didn’t know any better, I would swear that nothing else was happening on the Earth except for the 2016 Presidential campaigns.  But then the media cut me a break and let me watch the Super Bowl in peace.  Yes! Finally, I got a break.  Go Panthers! You da man, Cam!

Media Coverage Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

Oh well . . . and then there was that—the Broncos won.  Sigh! Although I must say, I was more than a little secretly pleased to have Peyton Manning go out for the last time on the wings of a Super Bowl win into retirement. But no sooner had I gone into mourning over my team losing the Super Bowl (Cam Newton: “what happened Buddy?”), and tried to wash the very disturbing puppy/monkey/baby Mountain Dew/juice/caffeine commercial from my psyche, the political coverage by the media came back in a deluge.

Super Bowl Ads Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

We’ve only just begun the race for the White House, and I am so sick of these crazy people that I could just scream.  It seems that others are as well.  On CNN, a columnist noted a new hashtag for millennials to describe their feelings in one word about how the election makes them feel—#2016InOneWord.  They responded accordingly:









I added my own word: mortified!   And can you imagine what it must have been like in New Hampshire these last few days?  CNN reported seeing New Hampshire yard signs that flat-out demanded, “NO SOLICITING OF ANY KIND” to the horde of campaigners with detailed inscriptions that read:

We are too broke to buy anything. We know who we are voting for. We have found Jesus.”


“Seriously, unless you are giving away beer, PLEASE GO AWAY!”

Dems vs Repubs Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune

I almost wish I could have been there to see what all the obsession was about, but I’m working on my third book and couldn’t get away.  Which is why I sent my alter ego, The Dalai Mama, to scout out the scene in New Hampshire and give me the what-what on the something-something especially if there was anything happening on the down-low.

If anyone could get the straight poop, then it would be The Dalai Mama.  She is my inner, fierce self.  The Dalai is what I would be in another time and another place—unafraid, full of spunk, suffering no fools, and having no problem letting them know it.  The presidential campaign trail is like watching a Monty Python movie but with verbal guns and knives—replete with popcorn. Dalai’s assessment of the New Hampshire scene was priceless.  Check out the transcript of our conversation this morning.

Political Entertainment Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission:  Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune

DM:       Hey Girl.  What’s happenin’?

ME:        Hey Babe.  I think the question is what’s happenin’ with you?  From all the news reports, the primaries in New Hampshire were a wild ride.  How did you fare? I’m pretty much caught up on the news everyone else knows:  GOP establishment in shambles and New Hampshire was their worst nightmare (Trump won), Hillary got creamed—women under sixty abandoned her for Sanders, Rubio’s campaign collapsed, and Trump and Sanders emerged as champions.  But I’d love to have your perspective.  What were your three biggest takeaways?

DM:       Girl, I wish you could have been here.  New Hampshire was a major bitch slap.  Tempers was flarin’, candidates was actin’ like fools, and most of them forgot everythang they mama’s done taught them.

ME:        How so?

DM:       First off:  Christie went all Jersey on Rubio’s ass during the debate.  He had been telegraphin’ all week that he was goin’ beat the shit out of Rubio down by the playground—jest like some schoolyard bully—but even though Rubio’s Hispanic, he ain’t got a lick of street smarts in him.  You could tell when it hit him that he didn’t see it comin’!  I thought cutie-pie Rubio was gonna burst into tears right then and there on the stage, but when he kept doing exactly what Christie was bullyin’ him about (bein’ a robot stuck in a loop), I almost jumped up on stage and knocked some sense into his head.  On the other hand, I think Christie thought he take out Rubio the way a bull takes out a distracted matador, then he would move on up the GOP food chain to eventually win the GOP establishment’s vote.  Well, surprise, surprise, surprise—Christie went down in flames and took “Fury-ina” with him.  They both withdrew their candidacies today.  He probably never heard the sayin’ in Jersey that “God don’t like ugly.”

February 9, 2016

February 9, 2016

Cartoon used by permission:  Adam Zyglis, The Buffalo News

ME:        I think Rubio thought if he picked an unfair fight with someone who couldn’t answer back on the stage—someone bigger and more powerful than him—the rest of the Repubs would thank him for it and leave him alone.  But he miscalculated the Prez and trusted in his scoundrel fellow Republicans too much.  Obama is at the point where he doesn’t give a shit what anyone says, and the Republican candidates only have your back until you get in their way.  After all, this bunch are politicians of the lowest common denominator.  What else did you observe?

DM:       The lowlifiest thing that happened is that Trump called Cruz a female kitty cat.  You should have seen Cruz’s reaction.  His head almost exploded.  Chil’ that dude’s got anger issues to beat the band.  I couldn’t believe that Trump’s bullin’ just made his peeps love him even more, so I guess he and Trump don’t have a bromance anymore. Can you imagine that sorry-ass Trump as president?

ME:        Yep, I can see the headlines now: “WWIII started after President Trump called Putin a pussy.  Putin called President Trump the “C” word, and now we’re dealing with nothing but scorched Earth ad infinitum.”

Pussy Cruz Bob Englehart CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission:  Bob Englehart, CagleCartoons,com

ME:        What was your impression of Hillary?

DM:       Mo’ like what was my impression of her ol’ man.   Did you see Bubba’s face when Hill conceded to Bernie?   I ain’t made up my mind yet ‘bout Hill, but I gots to tell you that the main thing holdin’ me back from Hillary is Bill.  I knows everybody calls him the “first Black president” ‘cause Black folks helped put him in office, and he like jazz and all, but I thinks he be takin’ us fo’ granted.  Everybody tellin’ me that his sorry-ass philanderin’ ain’t got nothin’ to do with Hillary bein’ Prez.  That may be so if he wasn’t gonna be first man.  But I knows me some Jesus, and that kind of crap don’t sit right with me or the Good Lawd.  If Bill cheat all day long, up one aisle and down the other on his wife, what the hell he gonna do to me—the voter he never met and don’t know—I’m gonna get screwed to the wall via his influence on his wife.  It tell me he only keep his word when it convenient.

Some of that ol’ Bill popped up this week.  He called my sweet Bernie “hermetically sealed from reality.”   That just brought back some real bad memories when Obama was gainin’ on Hillary in ‘08, and “he-who-can’t-keep-his-one-eyed-monster in his pants” went all racist on Obama.  Remember that?  When Ted Kennedy threw the Kennedy influence and weight behind Obama’s candidacy, do you know what racist thing Bubba said?

ME:        No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.

DM:       Clinton said ’bout takin’ Obama’s candidacy seriously:  “A few years ago, this guy (Obama) would have been carrying our bags.”  I was like, “Oh, hell to the no!  You goin’ down, Mofo.”  I just don’t trust the son-of-bitch . . . and now he and Hill tryin’ to do that to my Bernie.

ME:        So I gather you’re in the tank for Bernie?  You know he’s offered a lot of stuff that he can’t possible pay for—not to mention that he’ll never get anything done with that rabid Republican Congress.  If you think things are gridlocked now, the entire country will freeze in motion like a scene out of Frozen. Dalai Mama, are you being seduced by Bernie Sanders “heavenly promises”?

Bernie Advances on Clinton Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

DM:       No.  I’m just keepin’ my options open.  All I know is Hillary better watch her step.  I am a woman and I am Black, but it don’t mean I’m in the tank for her ’cause she be the first woman president.  Just ’cause I voted for her randy-ass husband doesn’t mean I’ll automatically vote for her.  She better woo me and move Bubba out of my sight line, or it is gonna be déjà vu Obama-time.  YOU BETTER NOT TAKE ME FOR GRANTED, HILLARY!

ME:        Okay!  Looks like you heard and saw a lot in New Hampshire.  Aren’t you exhausted?  Why don’t you come on home?

DM:       What do you think, Baby?  Of course I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop now.  South Carolina and Nevada here I come, along with the rest of the media hordes.  I can’t get enough of this shit.  Best reality show on the planet.  See you later, alligator.

ME:        Sigh!  After ‘while crocodile . . .

After New Hampshire Daryl Cagle CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Daryl Cagle, CagleCartoons com


I am discovering that it is going to be a long, long spring, summer and fall until the Presidential election.  The more each politician talks, the more I wish they’d shut up because all of them are over-promising, or lying, and most of them have no freakin’ idea how hard this job is going to be.  The lack of integrity, humanity, good manners, and integrity oozes from most of their pores, but the more it does the less the voters seem to mind.  Yikes!

In the meantime, the media act like stoned groupies at a rock concert—screaming and fainting in adulation for his or her favorite politician—as if these men and women were messiahs.  The media pretty much ignore everything else going on in the world—including the pain and suffering of the most vulnerable and disenfranched in our country caused by hard-hearted, greedy politicians.  We are at their mercy—unfortunately.

Flint Crap Daryl Cagle CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Daryl Cagle CagleCartoons com



“Many of the traits of character and leadership that Obama possesses, and that maybe we have taken too much for granted, have suddenly gone missing or are in short supply . . . Obama radiates an ethos of integrity, humanity, good manners and elegance that I’m beginning to miss, and that I suspect we will all miss a bit, regardless of who replaces him.”David Brooks [uber-Conservative Republican], The New York Times

“One of the reasons people hate politics is that truth is rarely a politician’s objective. Election and power are.”Cal Thomas

“If a politician found he had cannibals among his constituents, he would promise them missionaries for dinner.”H. L. Mencken

“Since a politician never believes what he says, he is quite surprised to be taken at his word.”Charles de Gaulle


ALL QUOTES FROM except where otherwise noted


WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS?  Monsters’ Throwdown and Fleeing Oz are both on sale at Amazon (hardcopy and Kindle).


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on February 10, 2016 in Uncategorized


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