Perhaps it is the dreariness
of the day that causes
me to have these feelings
not so much of despair, but
of hopelessness. I looked
out my study window a few
moments ago and saw that
our six remaining chickens
are having a great time
pecking at the decaying
pine logs stacked in a long
row to the left of the hen
house. They seem undaunted
by the rain. I guess those
old, soft logs provide them
with a lot of supplemental
protein. I never get so down
that I wish to be a chicken,
but I do feel once in a while
as if I am pretty close to the
barrel’s lonely bottom.
Sandy and I have just
gotten over a several days
illness, each of us having
contracted a variation of
whatever bug happened to
be making the rounds. So I
guess that has had something
to do with they way I
seem to be feeling about the
state of affairs ``in these
United States’’ these days.
The situation up north
has exasperated the hell
out of me. I happen to believe
that politics is indeed
local — and that it should
be left that way. Some outfit
called ``The Club for
Growth,’’ whatever that
means, camped out in the
23rd district trying like hell
to undermine the Republican
candidate’s candidacy.
It looks like it backfired
on them. And that is good.
Besides, all’s I can figure is
that these blokes have either
lost their jobs and have
nothing better to do or some
fat cat has subsidized their
little vacation so that they
need not make any effort at
all at HOME to bring about
the so-called growth they
champion.
I did not realize that
growth needed a club, but I
guess that when one has
nothing better to do joining
a useless club and mucking
up someone else’s pond is
better than sitting at home
ranting to oneself about the
state of family values.
Funny, isn’t it, how difficult
it is to attend to one’s
own family when away
from home butting into other
families’ lives.
It may be curmudgeonly
of me, but I received an
email request from an organization
I support to call five people
in the 23rd district to
encourage them to vote for
one candidate in particular.
I declined the offer. Voting
is a personal and private
matter. It is up the voters
of a particular district to
select their representatives.
They do not need, nor
should they be subject to,
outside interference.
I suspect that there are
quite a few people like me
up north whose hackles
stand on end when bugged
by either a political operative
or fundraiser, usually
at the most inopportune
times.
When it comes to voting,
especially in local elections,
an individual’s party affiliation
matter little to me. I
look for someone with character
who has the intelligence
and knowledge that a
particular job requires. My
operative assumption is
that we all have more in
common than we let on and
that these silly labels all
too often get in the way of
our working together to get
things done for the commonweal.
I admit to having socalled
liberal tendencies,
but since I define liberalism
within the context of
its longstanding history in
this country, it’s perpetually
misconstrued true character
stands on its own
merit and requires no defense.
I have only touched on a
few of the rainy day woes
on my mind today. We have
our endlessly bitter and
self-serving partisan bickering,
two wars, flu worries,
a struggling economy, joblessness
— well, the list is
endless. I laud former Senator
Edward Brooke who,
in essence, called for the
bickering to stop and for us
all to find ways to work together.
Ideology is fine so long
as it is not so hidebound as
to be blinded by its own insights.
