Remembering Phoenix

After we had gotten, in disco parlance, ‘sufficiently cocktailed,’ we’d head way downtown to the trashy gay nightclubs, places with names like Bullwinkle, Hotbods Desert Dance Palace, and our favorite, Sammy’s Steak House—a sleazy toilet that served neither steak nor any other kind of meal. The gay clubs played the best music—a combination of hardcore disco (Lime, Sylvester, The Twins) and dance-punk (New Order, The B-52s, The Thompson Twins) that drove us mad with pleasure. Here, in the ‘bad part of town’ at 2 in the morning, freaking out to DJ Hubert’s obscure Eurotrash mixes, we could forget the suburban strip-mall jobs and junior-college grind that awaited us on Monday. And Tuesday. And, we feared, forever.” ~ Robrt Pela

(I knew Hubert, although not well—and didn’t particularly like him. My most vivid memory of the guy—and one of the main reasons I didn’t care to be around him—was how from his perch in the DJ booth at HisCo. Disco about six feet above the dance floor and very near the club’s entrance, he’d lean over the glass divider and yell “Uterus!” at the female patrons walking in.)

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Quote of the Day

As a Phoenician, nothing makes me more depressed than endless sunny days.” ~ Jon Talton, The Rogue Columnist

While I haven’t reached that point again yet, I know it will eventually come, and I do remember many, many times before we moved to Denver feeling this way about life in Phoenix. I often remember waking up, looking outside and saying in as deadpan voice as possible, “Oh look, another cloudless sunny day.”

That being said, even when that inevitable day returns, after having spent four years in Denver, it will still be preferable to looking outside first thing in the morning and seeing that Mother Nature had dumped eight inches of snow overnight.

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AT&T CEO Says US Encryption Policy Is Up To Congress, Not Apple

US government policies on device encryption should be decided by the public and Congress, not companies like Apple, AT&T CEO Randall Stephenson said in an interview at the World Economic Forum being held this week in Davos, Switzerland.

Well of course he did. AT&T, probably more than any other company in US history has not only bent over for government spying, but actually spread their ass cheeks and lubed up for it.

And that, my friends, is why I will never buy services from AT&T.

And good luck getting Congress to listen to anything “the public” has to say. “The public” doesn’t own them the way AT&T does, after all.

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Goal

We’ve been watching this little place undergo a major renovation since shortly after we got back to Phoenix. It’s a couple blocks from our favorite coffeehouse, so we drive past it often. At one point it was gutted down to the studs (which was probably needed for a house of this vintage), but it’s now in the final stretch of being finished. I love everything about it—from the basic 40s-era design and the choice of colors to the walled front patio and the garage-turned-guesthouse in back—without even having seen the inside.

Ben and I would love to buy a place like this, or failing that at some point talk the current owners of our rental into selling us the place. I would love to do a makeover on it like the one above.

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Here We Go Again


It’s official. Apple has become Microsoft.

One of the things I really appreciated about Apple’s OS is that you didn’t have to reinstall it multiple times a year because something got screwed up. Apparently with their new all-encompassing focus on iDevices, no one in Cupertino really gives a rat’s ass about OS X any more—beyond giving it a shiny new coat of paint once a year so Tim Cook & Company can waltz out on stage and tell the faithful how magical it’s become.

Since upgrading to El Capitan some time ago, I’ve been having nothing but trouble with Apple Mail—to the point where I got Apple itself involved trying to troubleshoot why syncing wasn’t working with any regularity between the cloud and my Mac.

As mysteriously as the problem started, after several weeks it just disappeared, only to be replaced with Apple Mail using ridiculous amounts of CPU cycles and sending the laptop’s fans into overdrive while sitting idle. Fed up with these ongoing issues (and in no hurry to give up my iCloud email address because my life is tied to it),  I opted back into Apple’s public beta program, hoping against all odds that maybe this issue had been addressed and corrected in the latest beta since apparently I wasn’t the only one experiencing it.

Thankfully, after updating to OS X beta 10.11.3, Mail’s CPU gorging disappeared. I was a happy camper.

Then, about a week or so ago, I woke one morning to discover that an OS update had automatically downloaded, installed, and was prompting me to restart the computer. WTF?

Somehow, the developer (not the public beta, which to my knowledge still isn’t out) version of 10.11.4 had decided it was going to install itself on my Mac. I am not in the developer program, and after installation there was no record of it installing, other than the version number changed in “About This Mac.” AND NO WAY TO UNINSTALL IT.

It didn’t seem to break anything, so I just accepted this and resolved to live with it until 10.11.4 was officially released.

Well, lately my Mac has been randomly locking up—to the point where it requires a hard power cycle. I realize that using beta software comes with risks like this, but this particular beta I never signed up for.

When 10.11.3 was officially released last week, I attempted to install it over this bastard 10.11.4. Apple was having none of that. Apparently you can’t go backward unless you wipe everything and reinstall from scratch—which is exactly what I find myself doing this morning.

Thanks, Microsoft Apple.

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Quote of the Day

I believe in science. I believe in evolution. I believe in Nate Silver and Neil deGrasse Tyson and Christopher Hitchens, although I do admit he can be a kind of an asshole. I cannot get behind some supreme being who weighs in on the Tony Awards while a million people get whacked with machetes. I don’t believe a billion Indians are going to hell. I don’t think we get cancer to learn life lessons, and I don’t believe that people die young because God needs another angel. I think it’s just bullshit, and on some level, I think we all know that. I mean, don’t you? 

Look, I understand that religion makes it easier to deal with all of the random shitty things that happen to us, and I wish I could get on that ride; I’m sure I would be happier, but I just can’t. Feelings aren’t enough. I need it to be real.” ~ Piper Chapman, Orange is the New Black

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All We Are Is Dust In The Wind

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that lot of weird stuff goes through my head when I’m laying awake in bed at 4 am; stuff that wouldn’t have pinged my consciousness when I was younger. This morning, while still pondering the joint loss of David Bowie and Alan Rickman, I remembered reading somewhere that within 300 years of your death—unless you’re someone notable like Bowie or Einstein or Neil Armstrong—you will have been completely forgotten since anyone who knew you directly will have long since passed on as well.

I personally put that time frame at half that—or even less. Think about your grandparents. Now think about your great grandparents. How much do you actually know about them and their lives?

I know more about my material grandparents than my paternal. Even then, that knowledge is woefully lacking, and since Mom was an only child, once my sister and I pass on, that knowledge will vanish as well. I believe my grandfather was a chemical engineer. I know he worked in a white collar capacity at a paper mill for the majority of his life, and was recognized by the company for coming up with a new way of folding napkins for use in fast-food restaurants. Beyond that, I haven’t really got a clue. Was he in the army? Did he fight in World War I? How did he and my grandmother meet? Those are some of the things I probably should’ve asked Mom about when she was alive, but they were also those things that when you’re younger you really don’t care about. I have no idea if my grandmother ever worked—or if she did, what exactly her profession had been. As far as I know, she was a homemaker for her entire life (as was pretty common for women of that generation).

Going back another generation, I have no knowledge of my great grandparents beyond what I’ve seen in old photographs. If you even ask me their names I couldn’t tell you without having to look it up somewhere. My great-grandfather (or perhaps it was his father) fled Germany because—as family legend has it—he shot a deer in the Kaiser’s forest and the penalty if he’d been caught was death.

I know even less about my paternal grandparents. I think my dad’s father was a cabinet maker and owned his own business for many years in Safford, Arizona. I have no idea if my grandmother did anything outside the home. Their parents? No clue whatsoever.

About thirty years ago I realized how woefully inadequate my knowledge of even my own parents’ lives had been, so I asked them both to write short autobiographies. Dad took to the assignment like a fish to water; Mom never did come through with her story. Dad’s revelations and secrets were enlightening and helped explain many major and minor mysteries of his life, but like so many things, his written story has gone missing and I’m left with only my own memories of what he’d transcribed.

I think this lack of proper passing-on-of-the-family-story explains both my folks’ interest in genealogy as they grew older. Curiously, at least at this point in my life I do not share that interest. Since my sister never had children, when she and I are gone it will be the end of the line for this particular branch of the family and no one will be asking who my folks—or their folks—were or what they did during their lives.

And also since I have no children, I’ve pretty much resolved myself to knowing that at some point after I’m gone—like so many people who have come before—all my photographs, art, and possessions will end up at the bottom of a landfill or as curiosities in second-hand stores, offering some rare personal glimpses into life in the late 20th and early 21st centuries.

That’s why the here and now is so important. It’s all we’ve got.

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Equalizer

Once upon a time, any audiophile worth his salt owned (or at least wanted) one of these beasts. The thought being that a graphic equalizer allowed control over the entire audio spectrum instead of just at the ends, as the more common bass and treble controls afforded. In theory it allowed you to tweak specific ranges of frequencies to achieve the desired “flat” (i.e. uncolored) response from your audio source. Alternately, you could use the equalizer to boost or reduce frequencies intentionally for effect.

It wasn’t until the early 2000s that I actually had an equalizer in my system, although not nearly as impressive as the one above. And you know, I found it to be a complete waste of money. Maybe it was my already-aging ears deceiving me, but I found nothing really needed a degree of tweaking that couldn’t be accomplished with the bass and treble controls on my receiver.

Funny, that.

Anyhow, I was thinking the other night how I wish there was some sort of equalizer for life; something that allowed you to fine tune those areas that needed a little help. Increase employment or employment satisfaction, boost income, decrease fear and anxiety.

Sadly, no such device exists, not even in the darkest recesses of eBay.

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APPLE, FIX YOUR SHIT!

All I wanted to do was buy Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk and listen to it on my phone while I napped this afternoon.

But nooooooo! As is becoming more and more common, Apple was having none of it. The album was purchased and showing as downloaded on the phone, but where? It was nowhere; not under “recently added” or—god forbid—even under “Fleetwood Mac.”

This led me to say “FUCK IT,” and I got out of bed, giving up all thoughts of a nap.

On my Mac, Tusk was shown as available for download. So I downloaded it and plugged in my phone to sync.

Tusk still didn’t show up on the phone after the sync.  If that weren’t enough, for whatever fucking reason, all the album artwork on the phone disappeared as well—as has been happening with increasing regularity of late—and I’m getting really tired of it.

Because…

The only way to fix the missing artwork is to delete all the music from the phone (75GB worth) and then resync it. Do you know how long it takes to transfer 75GB over a USB connection?

Fuck, Apple…with each passing day you’re turning more and more into everything I hated about Microsoft, and it’s obvious you don’t give a shit. You’ve got more money than god and can live off the interest for the next thousand years, so why should you even?

I used to look forward to going to an Apple Store or receiving OS upgrades. Now I dread both experiences because I know at the store I’ll be met with attitude at best or insouciance at worst and OS Upgrades have become a question of “What is this going to BREAK?” (Much like it became with Windows.) Hell, I used to want to work for Apple, but no more!

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Check Ignition and May God’s Love Be With You

RIP David Bowie, 1947-2016

Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom (Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six)
Commencing countdown, engines on (Five, Four, Three)
Check ignition and may God’s love be with you (Two, One, Liftoff)

This is Ground Control to Major Tom
You’ve really made the grade
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear
Now it’s time to leave the capsule if you dare
“This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I’m stepping through the door
And I’m floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today
For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do

Though I’m past one hundred thousand miles
I’m feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell my wife I love her very much she knows
Ground Control to Major Tom
Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you “Here am I floating round my tin can
Far above the Moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do.”

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Memories…

I ran across this online today while searching for something else. I had to pass it on.

You Lived in Phoenix in the 60s, 70s, and 80s If…

You remember when Bell Road (especially through Glendale) was the considered edge of civilization. There was nothing there but tumbleweeds and prairie dogs. Now, it’s where you go to run all your errands. Or if you were traveling eastbound on Bell Rd. the sign that said “Scottsdale- 21 miles.”

You needed to pack a lunch to drive to Sun City.

Your parents took you to Legend City, the only theme park in Phoenix.

Afternoons were spent watching The Wallace and Ladmo Show.*

You remember when Beardsley Road was a seldom traveled, two-lane blacktop. Now, it’s the eastbound frontage road for the Loop 101 freeway.

Before there was Target, there was Gemco. Now, most of the old Gemco stores are Targets.

You remember the original Cine Capri theater at 24th Street and Camelback. You also waited for hours in a line that wrapped around the building to see the original Star Wars there.

You remember stores like Yellow Front, Woolco, Newberry’s, McCrory’s, TG&Y, Fedmart, Sprouse Reitz, Wards and Yates.

You remember when Metrocenter Mall had an underground ice skating rink. Watching skaters from the overlook above was the best way to escape the summer heat.

Metrocenter also had a Farrell’s ice cream parlor. No Farrell’s trip was complete without getting to see two waiters run though the restaurant with a sundae resting on a stretcher, while lights and sirens whirred in the background. Sometimes, the ice cream would fall off the stretcher. Don’t forget the trip thru their candy store.

You were bummed when Farrell’s closed. The space was later occupied by ‘Round the Corner, a burger and sandwich place similar to Red Robin.

You saw a concert at Compton Terrace when it was attached to Legend City.

Your folks subscribed to the Phoenix Gazette (afternoon newspaper) and the Arizona Republic on Sunday.

You remember when the Brass Armadillo antique mall was Angel’s—a building supply warehouse similar to Home Depot.

You remember when you got your building supplies from O’Malley’s, Entz-White or Payless Cashways.

You remember when the Phoenix Suns were the only professional sports team in the state, and they played their games at Phoenix Memorial Coliseum.

Your groceries came from Alpha Beta, AJ Bayless, Basha’s, Lucky’s, Neb’s Market or Smitty’s. Smitty’s even had a little coffee shop attached to it. Smitty’s sold everything.

A night out consisted of family dinner at the Lunt Avenue Marble Club. Their French Onion Soup and deep fried mushrooms were the best. (I’m here to witness, let me tell you!)

You remember when eastbound I-10 ended at Dysart Road. In order to continue east, you had to take McDowell or Thomas Road 15 miles to I-17 and head south. I-10 started up again somewhere east of downtown.

You remember when the Chili’s at 20th Street and Camelback (recently demolished) was The Jolly Roger.

You ate breakfast at Sambo’s or Bob’s Big Boy.

You drove to Central and Thomas to have strawberry pie at Big Boy’s because it was a car hop and they brought it to your car.

You remember when most houses were built with carports instead of garages. Roofs were covered with wood shakes or asphalt shingles instead of stone tiles.

You remember home builder’s billboards that advertised interest rates of 5%.

Your aspirin and cough syrup came from Skagg’s, SuperX, Revco, Thrifty’s, or Drug Emporium.

Your shoes came from Buster Brown.

For cafeteria-style French Food, you went to Café Casino at 24th Street & Camelback.

For some of the best Mexican food in town, you went to La Cucaracha at 7th Street and Indian School.

You remember when CBS was on Channel 10, ABC was on channel 3, and channels 5 and 15 were independent. Now, CBS is on Channel 5, FOX is on Channel 10, ABC is on Channel 15, and Channel 3 no longer has a network affiliation. NBC and PBS are the only ones that stayed on their original stations (channel 12 and 8, respectively).

You accompanied your dad to the True Value Hardware store in Westown in hopes of getting to stop at Baskin Robbins afterward.

You shopped at Valley West Mall before it became a ghost town, and was ultimately torn down.

You shopped at Phoenix Spectrum Mall when it was known as Chris-Town. Broadway was on the east end and Montgomery Wards was on the west. In the 80s, the mall was extended south at the west end and Bullocks anchored the southwest end. The movie theater was on the second floor of the east end of the mall.

You remember when Park Central was actually a full-fledged mall. You bought clothes at Goldwaters and Diamond’s.

You woke up to Bruce Kelly in the morning on KZZP. Before that—Jonathon Brandmeier and his ‘loons!’

You remember Phoenix’s only real rock and roll stations were KRIZ and KRUX in the 1960s.

You rode the ‘Tico’ to Park Central.

You remember quality local programming like Open House with Rita Davenport or Sun Spots with Jan DiAtri.

You accompanied your dad to the LaBelle’s catalog showroom to buy your mom’s Christmas present and where you drooled over hi-fi equipment.

Before he was governor, you remember Evan Mecham as the owner of a Pontiac dealership in Glendale.

You remember when Castles-n-Coasters was known as Golf-n-Stuff.

You remember when the entire state of Arizona only had one area code. Now, there are three in the Phoenix area alone.

You remember when Scottsdale Fashion Square was an outdoor mall with Goldwater’s, Bullocks and Leonard’s luggage being the only stores.

You remember when Goldwater’s was bought out by Robinson May who was then bought out by Macy’s.

You remember when Diamonds was bought out by Dillards.

You remember when Diamonds box office was the only place to buy concert tickets.

You remember when it hit 99℉ and that was considered HOT.

You remember when Big Surf water park was the place to go to beat the heat. Then hitting the drive in theater to see movie across the street.

You remember when best ice cream was found at Thrifty’s Drug Store, where $0.85 cents would get you three scoops.

You remember when you wrote all your information down on a piece of paper and then your drivers license was mailed to you. It was very easy to change the 1968 to 1965 (because it was still in your hand writing) so that you could go to Devil House drinking because the drinking age was 19 years old.

You remember when you could go to Devil House for dancing after hours which was from 1am – 3am.

You remember going to see Rocky Horror Picture Show at midnight on Mill Ave.

You remember when 44th Street and Thomas was Thomas Mall.

You remember when 40th Street and Thomas was Tower Plaza, and there were a few people that climbed to the top and threaten to jump.

You remember when there was a canal at 48th.

If you are of a certain sexual orientation, you remember Miss Matty’s Attic, Maggies/HisCo Disco, The Connection, The Forum, and Hotbods.

You remember when driving up Pima Road and you could see for miles and miles because there was nothing east or north of Shea Blvd. And it was very dark and scary.

You remember when the only way to get to Shea Blvd. was thru Dreamy Draw Park and there weren’t any streetlights. Squaw Peak was the name of a mountain, not a highway.

You remember going to concerts at Graham Central Station because the band was not popular enough to fill Mesa Amphitheater.

You bought vinyl at Odyssey Records and Circles Records & Tapes. At circles you had to pass through what seemed like a hermetically sealed passageway to get to the classical section.

You lusted over high-end audio at Jerry’s Audio and Bruce’s World of Sound.

You remember Terminal 1 at Sky Harbor.

You remember Sky Harbor before it was Sky Harbor International.

You remember being able to go out on the observation deck above Terminal 2 to watch planes arrive.

You ate lunch at McDonalds on Central under actual golden arches (one of the original designs). A Big Mac cost 55 cents.

You got your hair cut at Long Hair Inc. and maintained it with Conceived By Nature Shampoo, Creme Rinse and Conditioner.

You and your family ate at Sirloin Stockade, Guggy’s, or Hobo Joes. If it was a very special occasion, you went to Beefeaters on Camelback.

The smell of orange blossoms permeating the air everywhere in the spring.

You bought model kits at Webster’s Hobby Shop and ate lunch at the lunch counter of McCrory’s in Uptown Plaza.

You remember KXTC Disco 92 and their silver mylar bumper stickers.

You remember when the Colonade was an actual enclosed mall, with Sears on the east end and Rhodes Department Store on the West.

You shopped at West Plaza. You bought your pool and backyard fun supplies at Paddock. You bought plastic models from Hobby Lobby (no affiliation to the current behemoth).

*My sister and I were actually on the show one afternoon after our names had been selected from cards we’d mailed in.

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The Obligatory End of Year Post

As 2015 rapidly spins down into memory, I figured it was a time to take quick stock of the past year.

It’s been an interesting one, that’s for sure. I don’t think either Ben or I anticipated moving back to Phoenix—at least not this year—and yet that’s exactly what happened. I wish I could say it was a bittersweet departure from Denver, but I can’t. On the other hand, I also have no regrets about the past four years we spent there. We wanted an adventure, and that’s exactly what we got in Colorado.

As for the two resolutions I’d made a year ago, I managed to fulfill both of them. What a shock! I’ve taken a a lot more pictures than I did in 2014, and I got the hell out of DISH.

Now if only the next chapter in my employment saga would start, I’d be a happy guy.

In March, we visited Ben’s cousin and his partner in Atlanta, then drove to Columbia to spend a day with our friend John. At the end of May, we saw Bianca Del Rio’s Rolodex of Hate, and last month we saw Chris Hardwick’s Funcomfortable show.

Next year I’m looking forward to taking more photographs and seeing Donald Trump’s campaign (and by extension the entire republican slate) implode, wither and die. And then there’s the whole getting a job thing that needs to happen sooner rather than later.

A large winning lottery ticket would also be nice. But I guess we’d have to play in order to win…

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What Gay Agenda?

The one thing that stands out to me the most after pouring over the few remaining gay blogs out there where authors actually write, is how incredibly normal, and dare I say—boring—our lives actually are. As human beings we all want the same things: food, shelter, to be loved, a means of making a living, a safe place to call home, and a modicum of happiness—however we choose to define it. That’s what angers me the most about those on the right who are constantly screeching in fear of “the other,” whether it be people of the same sex wanting to get married, or families fleeing war-torn Syria. We all want the same things, and—despite what certain harpies would have you believe—those things are not finite. There is plenty to go around once we let go of the “all for me and none for thee” mindset. “We are more alike than we are different” is so obvious. It’s really too bad that more people don’t get it.

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Reflection and Vision

Stolen:

It’s that Monday. The last Monday of the year.

For me this is a day of reflection and a day of vision. What did I do this past year? What didn’t I do? Did I forget something? What was unexpected? What did I accomplish? Where did I go? What was learned? Any regrets? Do I owe an amends that I may have missed? Have I properly expressed gratitude? Have I forgiven? Did I love? Did I laugh? Where do I want to go? What do I wish to accomplish? Who do I need to spend time with? Who do I want to meet? How can I best invest my time? What do I need? What do I want?

Today as I go about life, I will contemplate. Twenty sixteen will be a great year. I will have a good vision. With vision comes inspiration. With inspiration comes motivation.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the things you did do. So throw off the bow lines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” ….H Jackson Brown Jr. 

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15 Fundamental Differences Between Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton

1. Sanders has served as an elected official for over 34 years. Clinton has not.

2. Sanders has supported gay rights since the early ‘80s. Clinton has not.

3. Sanders wants to end the prohibition of marijuana. Clinton does not.

4. Sanders wants to end the death penalty. Clinton does not.

5. Sanders wants to raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour. Clinton does not.

6. Sanders wants to break up the biggest banks. Clinton does not.

7. Sanders voted against the Wall Street bailout. Clinton did not.

8. Sanders introduced legislation to overturn Citizens United. Clinton did not.

9. Sanders refuses to accept money from super PACs. Clinton does not.

10. Sanders supports a single-payer healthcare system. Clinton does not.

11. Sanders refrains from waging personal attacks for political gains. Clinton does not.

12. Sanders considers climate change our nation’s biggest threat. Clinton does not.

13. Sanders opposed the Keystone XL Pipeline since day one. Clinton did not.

14. Sanders voted against the Patriot Act. Clinton did not.

15. Sanders voted against the war in Iraq. Clinton did not.

I will also add the differences in their support of the TPP. Bernie has lead the opposition to the TPP, while Hillary has been a major supporter until just a couple of months ago.

(Source)

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