Let's Get Something Straight

The political season is upon us.  I hate it almost as much as I hate football season.  We seem to have evolved into a football team mentality when it comes to deciding the leaders of our country.  Reasonable people become intoxicated jerks, jeering in the stands.  It's all about making sure your team gets to take down the goal post.  Go Red Team!  Go Blue Team!

I don't get it.

I can't stand it when people call each other names.  Over the course of the last few weeks, I have seen people use words like 'moron', 'idiot', and 'retarded' to describe the other side (this is coming form both sides of the fence so nobody gets a pass here).  How ugly.  Surely, we are more civilized than this.

But maybe not.  It's disturbing to me that people who don't understand that Republican and Christian are not synonymous and who are concerned about the details of Snooki's pregnancy are capable of directing policy.  Clearly, we're a little confused and have a long way to go in sorting out our priorities when it comes to what really matters.

I know that "what really matters" is different for everybody, so let me tell you what matters to me:

Tonight, there's a kid in your community who will go to bed hungry, who doesn't have a toothbrush.  That's a promise.  I've seen it.  What are we doing for him?

Tonight, there's a kid in your community whose 'father' or 'mother' is beating the crap out of him.  How do we protect him?

Tonight, there's a kid in your community who can't read and doesn't have the tools to learn.  Are you trying to make the world a better place for him?

Or are you just worried about you?

That's what I think our problem is.  Too much 'me' and not enough 'us'.  A lot of the issues being discussed could have a 'trickle-down' effect, but let's face it: it won't trickle down that much.  I see a lot of discussion about The Man vs. the common man, a lot of discussion about guns and religion and civil rights: all important--don't get me wrong.  But, in my mind, those are 'now' things: fix it now, fix it for ME.  I don't think we are thinking enough about the very resource which could sustain us or sink us, and that's the kids.

I think we should look at making sure help goes where it's truly needed: let's make sure we are feeding those kids food that's good for them, let's make sure we are keeping them warm and keeping them safe, let's make sure we are giving them the tools to raise themselves up, give them a chance.  Let's build our future here, and let's start by being good examples and treat each other with respect when we disagree.

I haven't decided which suit I will vote for in November.  I'm not on the Red Team and I'm not on the Blue Team.  I'm on the Bottom Layer Team, the team who can't vote, the team whose fate I may decide with a click of a button.  That's a lot to consider and I'll take my time to consider it.

Or maybe I'll just vote for me.  I like my platform best anyway.  :)

Yul Brynner Vs. The Baby Skunk

I was last man out at the office tonight, so it was up to me to set the alarm.  Plink-plink-plink-plink.  "Armed. Away. Exit Now."  I swung open the big metal door, letting it clang shut behind me.

I wasn't ten feet away when I spotted a fuzzy tail in the grass.  "That's an ugly-lookin' squirrel" I thought.  A couple steps closer and my heart jumped into my throat.  He turned and looked at me nonchalantly.  I slammed my entire body against the side of the building.  That's no squirrel; that's a baby skunk.

Cue "The Good, The Bad & The Ugly" theme song.

I guess I could have gone back inside the building, but I really, really, really wanted to go home.  And in order to get to my car, I would have to pass within 4 feet of PePe.

I would have to run for it.

Running.... bleck.

There's a stand-up routine by comedian Bill Hicks about Yul Brynner and Jim Fixx.  Look it up, if you aren't squeamish about profanity.  The gist of it is this-- Jim Fixx ran every day of his life, ate tofu, and preached the gospel of clean living.  Yul Brynner drank like a fish, smoked his brains out and ran around chasing the opposite sex.  They're both dead now.  Jim's in his casket with a look like "where did I go wrong?"  Yul's in his casket with a sloppy grin on his face.
It boils down to this--I'm a Yul kinda girl.

The skunk waddled toward me and I took off like a shot.  Well, in my case, a whiskey shot aged for 40+ years...

Yul lives to fight another day.

I'd Like a College Life, Please

I had a killer day yesterday.
I left my house at 8:00 am.  I ran some errands, then hit the office.  I worked behind a desk for about 6 hours and then I wacotted for about 7 hours.
For those of you who don't know: WACOT = walking around, checking on things.  It's a skill.
I got in my car at 11:45 pm and luxuriated in the hour commute home.  I changed into my favorite kaftan (some of you might call it a muumuu, but I think it's much more fashionable than that.  It has a drawstring that creates an empire waist and makes me look like that woman on the Jeffersons, but I digress.  We can talk about my nightwear preferences some other time.) It takes me a while to "wind down", so I finally crawled into bed at 2am.
So, for those of you having difficulty following along, here's the Cliff Notes version:
Up at 6:30am, in bed at 2am: 16.5 hour day from front door to front door, juggling all day long.
Poor me.
I can hear you guys breaking out the violins.

I woke up at noon today.
While I stood in the shower, hoping the water could scald the pain out of my joints, I reminisced about my college days.  How did I do it?  I had 8 am classes--most of which I actually attended.  I went to work after class and then I went to a bar after work.  When the bar closed down, I usually went home... around 2pm.  This was my college routine--not every day--but more frequently than not.
Not so different than the act I pulled off yesterday.  So why is it that the most I've been able to manage today is to make a sandwich and take the recycling out?
"Boy," I thought to myself.  "If someone could just bottle College Life, I'd give them just about whatever they wanted."

I imagine myself sidling up to the bar.
"What'll you have tonight, ma'am."
Ma'am.... oh how I hate to be called Ma'am.  Well, we'll fix that in a hurry.
"I'll have a College Life, please."
"Comin' right up.  That'll be $500."
"Not a problem."
He pops the cap and as he pours the beverage into a frosty mug, I can already feel it.  The possibilities, the curiosity, the liberty.  Ahhh.  But there's something else...  along with the possibilities comes the horrible mistakes.  The curiosity renders painful discoveries.  Liberty hold hands with damaging irresponsibility.  And College Life will definitely suck the cash right outta your pocket.

Want to rethink that?

On second thought, I'll stick with vodka and glucosamine.