One Issue Voter

After being out driving this week, I think I could become a one issue voter. If a candidate promised to ticket everyone who drove in the passing lane when they weren't passing anyone--I would donate money to that person's campaign, put their sign in my lawn, show up at their rally and put my "x" by their name on election day.

I'm embarrassed to say that this is how shallow I am.

Why don't people move over? One woman I know said she couldn't go back to the other lane because she drove a pick-up truck and it was too hard---hey, hey, hey--how about getting off the road if you can't handle the vehicle. Others say they are going the speed limit and have a right to be there--oh for pete sake, time to mosey on back to Mayberry RFD. And others, I'm sure, are just unaware or on their cell phone or are planning to pass someone or turn left at some point in the next 100 miles or so. Again, I know I'm a little bit on the ornery side about all this.

For several years, I've reminded the little darlings that when I die, it is their responsibility to tell their father to move out of the passing lane. Mr. Wonderful gets a little too comfortable in the left lane and is slow to put on his blinker, check over his right shoulder and slide back over to where he belongs. (I didn't pick up on this when we were dating--love is truly blind)

So, if you've been thinking about a political career but didn't really want to be bothered with foreign policy, recessions, depressions, global warming, crime, health care, mortgage meltdowns, poverty, energy resources and all those other big fancy issues--maybe this is the place to start. You can count on my vote.

Making me Smile

Occasionally people will say something--and for years after, their choice of words will make me chuckle when I remember it. One of my supervisors, a man I really liked and respected, once said "I'm verbalizing what I'm saying". I can't tell you how many times in the past twenty years that has made me laugh. My good friend Susie once pointed out a "dark light" and I don't recall why she said it but only that we laughed hysterically--so it still makes me chuckle. Little darling #3 has, in all his young seriousness, said enough hilarious things to make me wonder if he was some kind of comedic idiot savant.

Now, some of the things that people say that make no sense, but make me chuckle, also worry me. There was a bit on Jon Stewart's, "The Daily Show"--I only saw the clip on You Tube, because we don't have cable (don't get me started on that) and I don't know the name of the woman who does comedy sketches for his show----but anyway, she was talking to people at the Republican National Convention about Sarah Palin's daughter, Bristol, being pregnant, and trying to get them to say the word "choice"--and finally one woman very reluctantly said "...freedom of choice--but that's different than being pro choice." I know I'm going to remember that one for a long time.

Today I was reading a blog about the Catholic Church allowing dissension among "good" Catholics about some issues, specifically, in this article, the death penalty and no dissension regarding the Catholic church's teachings on other topics, such as abortion. In response to the blog, a man named Dudley Sharp, wrote, in the comments section, "Furthermore, you can, rightly, argue that the death penalty is pro life." I just want to shake my head and say, "Dudley, Dudley, Dudley." If he was one of my kids, I'd probably say something wise like, "Hey, now, no more stupid talk" and try to make sure he didn't catch me laughing at him.

Sidelines

The youngest of our little darlings went to her first school dance the other night. Knowing her personality, we knew she would never be one of the kids that would actually get out and dance or jump around or do whatever they do in the middle of the floor that passes for dancing these days. She's a cautious girl who has a strong need to know what she's getting into and if there's any chance at all that she'll look silly, she won't be taking part, only observing.

Sometimes, it makes me a little sad for her. I want to be able to help her see that living life on the sidelines isn't near as much fun as jumping in and letting loose,whatever the activity may be (except rock climbing, duh!). Its taken a lot of years--and self-talk, sometimes downright sarcastic rude self-talk, but I think I've finally learned the lesson and am applying it to my own life.

So here's my mid-life mini-manifesto (if I was really clever, I would insert a You Tube clip of a drumroll): If I want to do it, I'm going to do it. I'm not going to live on the sidelines worrying about what other people might think or say. You should all be thankful I'm not interested in ballet--because with this body it could get ugly.

Now comes the more difficult task of gently continuing to teach/coax/reassure my little darling that life is more fun lived than watched.