The Marshall Plans
Thinking outside the (pine) box
I grow old… I grow old…
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
— T.S. Eliot
By Thom Marshall
Coming out of retirement to write about my plans is like considering a long car trip when all you have is a rusty ratty worn out jalopy. You expect to be uncomfortable and apprehensive the whole way, if you make it that far. So why do it?
Our wonderful land is suffering now from so many aches and pains and wounds that I can almost hear the Statue of Liberty beseeching, “We need plans. A great many plans.
To save us from each other.
To save us from ourselves.
To bring us together.
Plans that will make jobs.
Plans about repairing broken government parts.
Plans for modernizing the outdated things and invigorating the worn and over-patched things.
Also, please include plans to help the tired, the poor, and the huddled masses yearning to breathe free who are overwhelming our southern border.
It, then, boils down to patriotic duty. Because I have plans. Plans I’m happy to share. I love…
