No one had to remind me to vote, nor whom to vote for. My mind was made up months ago. I’ve paid too much attention to all the incendiary brouhaha of the campaign. I’ve lost sleep and had bad dreams.
As I walked along our street to vote this morning a sheriff’s car went by in one direction, a police car in the other. More visibility, I suppose, in the face of threats of election day violence around the country.
Is this what America has come to?
A couple of days ago I saw a video produced by a group of young entertainers who decided they had to raise awareness about one candidate. It was funny, yes, and spot on, but if a t.v. censor had been on duty, there would’ve been twenty-one bleeps. I counted.
Is this what America has come to?
The world is watching! Our country was founded by people who fled their homeland so they could be free. Recently, even the Pope commented on our political campaign and the irresponsibility of one candidate who wants to build a wall to keep people out.
Is this what America has come to?
Women fought for and finally got the right to vote in 1920. This year, a highly qualified woman is a candidate for the office of President. We’ve come a long way, baby, as the old slogan goes.
So, yes, we’ve come at least this far.
About time, but at enormous cost. We’ve lost standing in the world as the endless months of politicking has painted Americans ugly and embarrassing and laughable and scary.
In June, I was fortunate enough to sit next to my hero, political columnist Leonard Pitts, at the National Society of Newspaper Columnists conference. I was as tongue-tied as if I were still a teenaged high school newspaper editor. Finally I asked if, deep down, he thought Hillary Clinton would win the election.
His eyes drilled mine, then he scanned the table, and said, “Yes, I do. But if he were to win, it would be the ruination not only of our country, but of the entire world.”
I hope Pitts’s is right about who will win. He’s way more attuned to all this than I am, it’s what he does. I am not, in any way, qualified to write political commentary. When I sat down to vote this morning, I was shaky, queasy.
By about 10:00 tonight the pundits will make their well-informed predictions on the election’s outcome. I’ll be listening.
Wave on.
The National Society of Newspaper Columnists contest winner, 2016 —
online, blog, & monthly under 100,000 unique visitors category.
Nearly twenty years ago, daughter Leslie gave Peter a Squirrel Nut Zippers “Perennial Favorites” CD. He loved it. Even stuffy ol’ me got into it. I turned into a teeny-bopper fifty years too late. Leslie loved SNZ too, but she was a mere thirty-something at the time. This year, as her October birthday approached, I saw that SNZippers were coming to town. Did she and Martin want to go?
then two and seven, and her with daughter Kristin, five. Her son Eric wasn’t on the horizon then. Twenty years! We’d worked at General Electric at the same time, she a recent college grad about Carolynn’s age, me, old enough to mother her, though she said I mentored. We talked Wednesday afternoon away. That evening she
texted to say she’d forgotten to give me the small gift she’d brought along. I’d already pulled away when she remembered, so she gave the package to the bartender at Nola’s to keep for me. When I went to pick it up there was an boisterous crowd at the bar. A couple of young women had heard the story of our meeting after so many years and begged me to open the gift right then so they could see it! The little box contained earrings made from old typewriter keys. Perfect.
Now poppies dance
Wherever you go, there you are. 