Kate’s 2¢: “Common Sense” by Thomas Paine

“Common Sense” by Thomas Paine

Kate’s 2¢: There is a plethora of in-depth biographies of authors and reviews of their books, that state the title, author, published date, and genre; as well as,     describing what the book is about, setting, and character(s), so, Kate’s 2¢ merely shares my thoughts about what I read.  I’m just saying…

Who hasn’t heard “These are the times that try men’s souls.”? While “Common Sense” was written in the mid-1770’s, the reasoning is still sound today. No one can guaranteed that your ally today will be your ally tomorrow.

It was said that Britain was the father of America, but, Paine points out that our people came from all over, thus, Europe was the Father of America.

Our people still come from all over the globe; however, now it seems that the immigrants of today only want to make money to send back to their country of origin, instead of, striving to make America great.

I think it is important for all Americans to read and discuss pieces like “Common Sense”, the Constitution of the United States” and the other influential treatises to solidify each’s foundation in understanding our country and the principles upon which it was founded.

I also realize that each generation is going to have its own agenda (as well as make its own mistakes); however, working within the framework of our system of government and principles, will keep our Republic viable and successful.

From the Web:

Thomas Paine was an influential 18th-century writer of essays and pamphlets. Among them were “The Age of Reason,” regarding the place of religion in society; “Rights of Man,” a piece defending the French Revolution; and “Common Sense,” which was published during the American Revolution. “Common Sense,” Paine’s most influential piece, brought his ideas to a vast audience, swaying the otherwise undecided public opinion to the view that independence from the British was a necessity.

Paine was a pamphleteer whose “Common Sense” and other writings influenced the American Revolution, and helped pave the way for the Declaration of Independence.

From NLS/BARD/LOC:

Common sense and The crisis DB19603

Paine, Thomas; Paine, Thomas. Reading time: 10 hours, 1 minute.

Read by David Horvitz. A production of the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped, Library of Congress.

Government and Politics

In “Common Sense,” first appearing in 1776, the American patriot sees the Declaration of Independence as America’s moral obligation to the world. In the thirteen “Crisis” papers, written during the Revolutionary War, he supports and encourages the patriotic struggle against Britain.

Chronicles of Spain, 1966 “American Passport”

Chronicles of Spain, 1966 “American Passport”

(bodhisattva connotes a being who is ‘bound for enlightenment’; a person whose aim is to become fully enlightened.)

American Passport

By Kate Chamberlin

Aloud tap on the Citreon’s driver’s window woke the four of us up from a sound sleep. We’d driven south until our eyes drooped, but, there was no inn or hostel in sight. We’d pulled over into, what was probably a scenic look-out spot, put our heads back, and slept.

La Guardia tapping on my window said we couldn’t spend the night there. An inn was about two miles ahead of us. We left and found clean beds to sleep in. The morning’s sunny view of a harbor, little boats, and greenery was picture postcard perfect.

I drove our little Estropizio  the rest of the way to the border of Gibraltar. We spent a few minutes atop the rock, posing with the little monkeys, who made their home there.

We boarded a boat and sailed through the Straights of Gibraltar to Algeciras, Morocco. The totally foreign sights of the garb people wore, smells of the exotic food, and crowds were intimidating. Adding to our fear was the dire warning to not take any photos of anything.

Once back on the mainland of Gibraltar, we relaxed in Estropizio and headed for the Spanish border. We happened to be behind a car of four British girls we’d met in Gibraltar. At the border, the gardarmes had them pull over to the side of the road and they all got out.

When we pulled up to the stop spot, he asked for our passports, looked at them, and waved us onward.  Apparently, relations between Spain and England over the ownership of “the rock”, was still a festering sore.

I was very appreciative of the positive influence of my American passport. My Mother, however, would have paled at any descriptions of my Arabian tales. So, I didn’t tell her.

I’m still on my journey toward bodhisattva and when I’ve achieved full enlightenment,

I will tell my Mother.

Chronicles of Spain, 1966 – Horse carriage ride

Chronicles of Spain, 1966 – Horse carriage ride

(bodhisattva connotes a being who is ‘bound for enlightenment’; a person whose aim is to become fully enlightened.)

Horse Carriage Ride

By Kate Chamberlin

While each Spanish town and city along our route with Estropezia, held special sights, sounds, and smells unique unto itself, Seville is one that stands out in my memory.

Arriving in the late-afternoon, we procured over-night accommodations in a youth hostel, then, toured the city. We stopped here and there to sample various local food vendor’s wares, toured several museums, and, eventually, needed a bathroom.

We entered one bar a little way down a side street, off the very busy main street, thinking what bar doesn’t have a rest room?

The bar room/restaurant had a few tables and numerous men seated at the bar. An ambiance of friendliness with the ubiquitous smell of stale wine and fried tapas in oil permeated the air. The vociferous chatter and laughter ceased as we stepped in. Small, dark eyes watched our every move as we approached the bar. In our uncertain Spanish, we asked where the ladies’ room was located. The bartender nodded, grinned, and indicated it was behind the building. We exited the building and went around to the back

We opened the door and gasped. The stench was thicker than the walls and stopped us in our tracks. Upon closer inspection, we saw two shoe prints painted on each side of a hole in the floor  of a 3-foot by 3-foot “closet. There were urine stains all over the floor and the very thin walls. We suddenly decided that we didn’t have to go THAT badly, especially if we would have to hold up our skirts to squat over the mess on the floor. We covered our mouths, held our noses and backed out of the “rest room”. There was an uproarious laughter from the men at the bar on the other side of the wall.  It occurred to us that there might have been a peep-hole providing entertainment for the locals.

Two of the girls wanted to return to the hostel to sleep; however, another girl and I weren’t quite ready to call it a night. They took the car back and we walked from club to bar to night spot until it was rather late. The hostel had a curfew, after which the gates to the property were locked.

We thought we should get there pronto, so, we walked up to a horse drawn carriage. It was a beautiful little carriage drawn by a handsome, brown horse about 12-hands high. I asked the grandfatherly driver, who was sitting with his teenage grandson at the reins, if I could pet the horse.

He said, “Si. Si, Senorita.”; which started a conversation where I explained how I used to ride my neighbor’s horses when I lived in Riverwoods/Deerfield, Illinois. He asked me if I’d like to ride his horse. Why not?

Fortunately, my full skirt provided ample coverage as the teenage son gave me a leg up onto the horses back. Quick as a wink, he vaulted up to sit right behind me.  His grandfather chuckled  as my friend sat in the carriage and the boy clicked to the horse and flicked the reins. We made it to our hostel just in time for curfew.

It was the exuberance of youth that made me do it, but, my unlady-like behavior would have thoroughly embarrassed my Mother. So, I didn’t tell her.