Every four years, I lose my mind a little.
I’ve always been a political animal. I guess it came from taking note of the injustices of the world at an age when most of my cohort were deciding which Trapper Keeper to carry. At the ripe old age of fourteen, I was gravely concerned about Ronald Reagan’s Latin American policy. So when I found out my congressman — Mike Barnes — was Chair of the House Subcommittee on Latin American Affairs, I convinced my father to drive me to the campaign office so I could stuff envelopes and answer phones. Dad even served as my date at the victory party that November night when I had my first taste of styrofoam straw boater hats and bands playing “Happy Days Are Here Again” in cut-rate hotel ballrooms. Since that night I’ve had more than my fill of picnics, committee meetings, door-knocking and phone banking. It goes in spurts for me, and sometimes I drop out of the retail side of politics in despair and disillusionment, but I never stop thinking about it and discussing it. It’s truly a sickness.
So, you’ll forgive me for being utterly incapable of stringing together blog posts the way I’d hoped and expected I could lately. My free time has been completely sucked up by the presidential campaign. My browser finds its way to Daily Kos with barely a nudge of the mouse. I find myself refreshing the Drudge Report more than would be deemed appropriate in any 24-hour period. And yes, I had my cell phone on the nightstand when the 3 a.m. text arrived.
I know I’m not alone. I see your facebook status messages: Robbie is building an ark, Regina is hand-wringing about the election, Sandy wants to vote even more. We’re all obsessed and it won’t get any easier for a while.
But I’ve decided that this blog is going to be a presidential campaign-free zone. This post is the last time I’ll mention it. Of course that doesn’t mean I won’t get political, but there will be no lipstick and there will be no pigs. I’ve got other fish to fry. And by fish, I do not mean to imply that John McCain is a fish. And by fry, I do not mean to imply that I would like to roll him in flour and submerge him in a vat of boiling canola oil.
