Archive for the ‘campaign’ Category

Aunt Rose from Solvang called last night.

“I’m concerned about him, Bobby,” she said.
“Who are you worried about?” I asked.
“I just saw John McCain give a speech on TV today,” she said. “His skin doesn’t look well.”
“I’m sure the McCains are taking care of it,” I reassured her.
“You’re in the PR business Bobby. Surely you know someone on his campaign,” Rose replied.
“Honestly Aunt Rose, I don’t know anyone close to the McCains,” I said.
“I mean, there’s no way that I’m voting for him, but still, he’s human and I know just the thing that can treat his condition,” she said.
“I don’t think I’ll ask about the course of treatment,” I said.
“If he just drank 5 cups of green tea and took a series of special vitamin shots…” Rose said as she shuffled through a mountain of papers in her kitchen. “Here is the name of the manufacturer of those shots. They are out of town in your state. I think you pronounce it Dawl-on-ayga?”
“It’s Dahlonega, Rose,” I answered.

I was finally able to get some quiet time on this Friday evening. Jenny went out shopping for shoes and Nancy was at a pizza/roller skating party. So, I popped open a bottle of Merlot and cracked out the old Hall and Oates tapes. I have no idea why I’m admitting this here, but I cannot stress how I was enjoying myself after a long week of writing releases. Here I was on a Friday evening, actually considering Aunt Rose’s advice to Senator McCain.

“I’ll look into it,” I said while looking at the track listing to Private Eyes.
“Oh, he’s such a good man, Bobby. I don’t understand why he’s been doing what he’s been doing,” Rose said.
“I don’t think any of the moves he’s made in the campaign has been his choice,” I explained. “You see, he has a lot of advisers and they pretty much come up with the ideas.”
“Like that Karl Rove fella?” she asked?
“Yes, kind of like Karl Rove,” I replied. “They are the folks who came up with the idea to put Sarah Palin on the ticket and tell everyone how much Barack Obama wants to spread the wealth.”
“I don’t believe John McCain means any of that garbage for a minute!” she said in an innocent way.
“Yes, politics is a dirty business Aunt Rose. Maybe the stress of it all is getting to Senator McCain,” I said.
Rose agreed with that hypothesis and it seemed like that was going to be the end of the conversation. Next up in the tape deck: H20.
I’m so ready for this all to end and for Senator McCain to go back to his doctor.

Joan the Crackpot approached me at the top of the street’s hill today. She lives on a cul-de-sac off of the main road that connects to mine. There are four other houses on her cul-de-sac that are the residence of four other crackpot families. Their views range from, “Who really brought down the twin towers?” to “The left-wing voter fraud conspiracy.”

I knew that Joan and her minions shared ridiculous thoughts, but today, I was floored.

“I can’t believe you’re voting for a Muslim!” she screamed in front of everyone within earshot.

I thought she was kidding at first. After all, the rumor that, “Barack Obama is a Muslim” had been put to rest a long time ago. It has become a joke to many. Somehow Joan was losing her mind if she ever had one, in the month following up to the November 2008 presidential election.

“He’s not only a Muslim, but he’s black,” she then said to her two suburban drone friends who were cackling by the nearby stop sign.

That part wasn’t really meant for me to hear by the way and it’s what sent me over the top.

I then said, “Sarah Palin is far more dangerous.”

She then replied, “At least she’s American!”

I simply said, “Well, Barack is going to win.”

“If he wins, I’m moving to Canada,” she commented to her two enablers.

I said, “Well, they don’t admit dumb rednecks into Canada. By the way, they have a lot of Muslims and national health care up there – both of which must scare the hell out of you.”

“You goddamn liberal smartass. You don’t see the light. His name is Barack Hussein Obama!” she screamed.

“And he’s not a Muslim and it was confirmed that he is Christian just like you,” I said.

“Oh, no you don’t. I’m nothing like him,” she yapped as her coke bottle glass fell down her nose. “He was in Indonesia for years and they trained him to be a terrorist. He’s a plant! He’s going to take over this country! I fear for what’s going to become of this country!”

“This country is becoming even more diverse with Muslims, African-Americans, Asian-Americans, Mexican-Americans, Indian-Americans and much more, you backwater inbred moron!” I screamed. She and her idiotic friends were stunned. Sure, I harbored resentment for these people from the moment I moved here, but they never saw me coming at them like this.

“It’s now confirmed. You are all officially morons,” I said as I chose to cool down and walk away. But a wave of depression overcame me and I’m not sure how I’ll recover. I e-mailed Larry about it. He e-mailed back and wrote not to worry.

Sure I could’ve gone back and forth about how he’s not a Muslim and there is little connection with the unsavory people in Chicago. Yada, yada. As I have stated before: I could care less about pond scum like this. Joan could get together with those jackasses and hold their neighborhood barbeques all they want. Would I have gone further? Perhaps. I know Jenny would have killed her. Still, here we are in suburbia where it’s supposed to be “safe,” but we aren’t “safe.” We are subjected to what I consider to be the crime of hate perpetrated by people who say they are educated. I told you about Gus. He went to Auburn. Joan herself went to Alabama and even Candy went to Georgia Southern. You would think with all of that education, they would have open minds. Instead they want to set themselves up in this walled-off subdivision north of Atlanta. They don’t want to learn about Judaism or Islam. Their nearby churches which are Baptist and Methodist are of the most conservative type you could find. Here I was naive to think that their houses of worship practiced tolerance, but their leaders instructed them all to vote Republican and ordered them to go on missions to places like El Salvador when their citizens were at their most vulnerable.

Don’t get me wrong, I can handle conservatives. We can agree to disagree. If you don’t like Obama for his tax policies or military strategy, that’s fine, but don’t go down this road about how he’s a Muslim and then get so hot under the collar, you get carried away and show your racism. If she said that to me on the street, I cannot even imagine what she says to her little buddies who go out with her to lame mainstream movies at night after they slop down their feed at Shoney’s.

For me this was an atypical day in Hickory Hills. Racism rears its ugly head. I really shouldn’t be surprised because it’s coming from Joan the Crackpot who resides on Crackpot Circle. We have come so far yet there is so much more to go. Joan probably shares her views with her three boys. I hope I’m wrong in assuming that. Perhaps all or just one of them will rebel when it comes to their mom’s racism. I’m looking up these days and I think one day we’ll have a colorblind society.