Confession: I missed nearly all of the last two presidential debates as well as the vice-presidential debate. And I don't feel the slightest bit guilty about it.
On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evenings, I race from my office in San Francisco, itching to fold my arms around Elaine. But by the time I arrive home (somewhere between 5:30 and 6), our minutes together are numbered. I generally give her dinner -- we're up to two courses these days, sweet potatoes followed by pears, peas followed by bananas, etc. -- and then either a warm bath or a few short minutes of cuddle and play time before nursing her and settling her in her crib between 6:30 and 7. It whips by every single night. Even on the evenings when I have a comparatively leisurely 90 minutes with her, I basically feel like I get home just in time to kiss her goodnight.
The last two presidential debates, October 7 and 15, were on a Tuesday and a Wednesday, respectively. (Refer if necessary to the confession that started this post.) Both times, I completely forgot they were going on until after I'd put Elaine down for the night. We were laying on the floor in her room, playing with wooden blocks or blowing tummy raspberries or squealing and cracking up at each other, while most of our friends and acquaintances were glued to their television sets, rolling their eyes, swearing, guffawing, and in some instances, pretending to care. After I'd gently set her in her crib around 7 and watched her stick one thumb in her mouth while starting to twist her hair with the other hand, I slipped from the room and flipped on the TV, just in time to catch a few minutes of Obama's serene countenance and McCain's strangely twitchy, awkward, sneering one. (Seriously. What was up with the crazy eyes in the October 15 debate?) I saw just enough to have some fodder for complaining the following day with friends, colleagues, and Brandon, but not actually enough to have a more thorough picture of either candidate's positions or plans. The fact is -- and again, maybe I'm not supposed to admit this -- I can't imagine what could happen in those debates that would change my stance, anyway. I'll suddenly decide that Obama does consort with terrorists? I'll become convinced that he's an Arab and therefore someone to be feared? I'll conclude that "victory" in Iraq is an achievable (and definable) goal? Yeah.
I would respect myself just a little bit more if I'd seen each debate in its entirety and could be one of those people that can really and truly argue with people of a different political persuasion about the finer points of each candidate's baloney and the context in which it was presented and the long-term implications of all of it. But I've never had a mind for politics like that. There are a few issues I feel strongly about -- a woman's right to choose, stem-cell research, gay marriage (yes I realize Obama doesn't throw his weight behind this one, but he's also not going to support a legal ban on it), renewable energy, separation of church and state -- and only one candidate (and one party) doesn't offend my values on each of these. So my decision is easy.
Here is what I believe: I actually am fulfilling my civic duty in a WAY more long-term fashion by spending my time rolling around on the floor getting soaked in baby drool. I'm trying hard to form her wonderfully cheerful, soft, squishy little self into a happy, smart, analytical being, and my undivided attention and love is hopefully the best way to get us off on the right foot. This is going to sound a little whacked -- I am what I am -- but the other day I found myself gazing at Elaine and thinking how weird it is that she's a human alive on this earth and she has absolutely no responsibilities where this election is concerned. She gets to be blissfully oblivious to it all, and isn't expected to show up at the polls with an informed opinion … despite the fact that the implications of this election (as with the administration of the last eight years … and, I guess, every administration before) will no doubt lay the groundwork for either the mess that her generation has to clean up, or a legacy that they can uphold. And unfortunately, I'm not so optimistic as to assume that if my favored candidate wins the election, we're headed for the legacy. In 2000, four of the eight adults in my family voted the Republican ticket. In 2004, one of the eight voted to re-elect Bush. In 2008, we're straight Democratic. Leaders can disappoint, and intelligent voters can become horribly disillusioned. Here's hoping that when I go to the polls in 2+ weeks, I won't be casting a vote that I will feel guilty about when Elaine is a comparatively mature 8 years old.
Currently rated 4.5 by 2 people
- Currently 4.5/5 Stars.
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5