Here we go, folks. We’ve got ourselves a race with two strong tickets.
I have supported the democratic party – my party – since my first voter’s registration card more than 20 years ago. I cry every time I vote – no matter the election or issue. I’ve carried babies on my hip as I’ve voted and tried to instill civic pride and responsibility in my daughters. In this election season, I’ve made sure they understood that they were watching history being made.
My poor kids. They declared themselves independent as soon as they understood that Mommy was Blue and Daddy was deep, deep red. We’ve discussed issues, delved deep, debated and every four years we have to have some ground rules and throw down the naughty-mat for mummy or daddy to sit on in time-out, depending on who just drew some blood during a verbal assault.
Hannity & Colmes is off limits year round. We just can’t afford the marriage counseling, and really, most therapists wouldn’t want to take us on.
It wasn’t easy around here for a while. I emphatically supported Hilary Clinton, after admiring her for years, and campaigned for her while definitely being in the minority with friends and family here in the deep South. Nothing new there, of course, I’ve been on the prayer list of many Texas women’s church groups. If I had a nickel for every condescending “head pat” and a quiet, “I’ll pray for you, dear” when my politics were revealed…
But, with head held high, I pressed on. And cried when it was not to be… this time.
With Obama’s clinching of the nomination, I waited to see if he would do the smart thing – unify our party and name Hilary Clinton the Vice Presidential nominee. I thought that certainly he wouldn’t simply ignore 18 million supporters and expect that we would just tow the party line.
That’s exactly what he did. Naming Joe Biden was, on it’s face, a move designed to shore up the questions of foreign relations and experience. It did nothing to inspire me. Obama does nothing to inspire me. All mirth and no matter.
Today, I have to say, (crediting Geralidine Ferraro for the sound byte) …
PUMA. To be crass, “Party Unity My Ass.”
Hilary, I can’t in good conscience get on the love train. I’m not convinced that you want us to, really, but that’s another story.
I’ve got from Hill-Raiser to Palin-Proponent. It isn’t solely the fact that she’s a woman, although McCain’s decision to name Palin shows me that he’s not as out of touch as Obama says he is. It shows me that he understands the conversation taking place. Change is happening – it wasn’t initiated by Obama, but by the American people, as it always has been. Who can manage that change? Who is listening to me and others like me?
Today, my answer is McCain/Palin. I refuse to declare myself red, but I suppose I would say a lovely shade of aubergine at this point.