I Guess I Just Wasn't Listening

Like many of the directives handed down this campaign age (because it’s been too damned long to be just a year), I missed that memo that we should take the time to write about our voting strategies. Yes, I thought it was interesting to see such a consistent thread of thoughts from several different people, but, then again, Barack Obama happened so maybe I’ve adapted and learned not to question-much of any aspect of human behavior, actually.

That’s the last in a long line of me just not questioning anything anymore and accepting questionable things as truth. Why? Not because it’s easy but because it’s easiest. If I had to ask myself why any number of intelligent, noteworthy people have thrown themselves on the altar of His Holiness, I’d be very tempted to throw myself off the top of some altar since there is clearly no method to that madness. I’m smarter than ACORN’s average voting nine-year old but this election wouldn’t be the first pseudo-intellectual “joke” that I just didn’t get. I thought it must have been me.

Probably was.

That’s pretty hilarious since in the realm of humor, I’m the type that if you stick me with a stickpin, I’ll come at you with a “steak knife.” It’s all relative and it’s all personal to me. And frankly, it’s all funny.

Until isn’t. Until it wasn’t. This election got damned unfunny damned fast.

In a space of time when there’s very little left to find humor in, I will not put aside my own personal litmus test to decide who I want to lead me and my country.

“Can she admit she stumbles?”

Can he?

“Can she admit she is imperfect?”

Can he?

“Does she think that there is anything wrong with America that can’t be fixed by what’s right with America?” A heady question to be sure, but I reserve the right to ask.

Does he?

“Can she laugh at herself?”

Does he even know what that means?

As anyone can see, the questions are hardly equal in importance and some are definitely loaded; some are probably even tilted in the favor of one candidate over another-c’est la vie. I’ve already made my choice-one the media is certainly familiar with-that objectivity is for other people. I don’t have to pretend that I don’t know what I’m going to do because I’ve already done it. The truth is there was never much of a chance that I’d do anything different.

On October 23rd, I walked into a voting booth and early voted for Sarah Palin and John McCain. I did not wait in line because there wasn’t one, I did not cry. (This past Saturday I did, but that’s for other reasons and that’s grief for another post.) I didn’t even hold my nose. I breathed deeply after the realization that I would never have to smell this scent again. And that scent was regret.

With regret, I spun the dial; I chose the women, the minorities, the Republicans; and yes, even one lone Libertarian. I gave many, many people the chance to serve and if they do to me as their predecessors already have, it’s the last chance I’ll give them. I didn’t quite get to fulfill a dream with this vote-not quite, no, but I got to do something that felt right at its heart.

I got to vote for a woman who had to apologize a dozen times for never being wrong-even though her name wasn’t there.

I got to vote for a woman who admitted that she cared too much, and showed it in the hangdog tiredness in her eyes and the sometimes hoarse tenor of her voice. Even though her name wasn’t there.

I got to vote for a woman who believed to the very roots of her being that this country is already great-but it can be better. And, no, her name wasn’t there.

I voted for Sarah Palin too, and her devotion, and her brilliance. I got to vote for her humility and her humor and her laugh. I got to vote for the great things she’s done-there are many-and that great things she will do-she’s never feared high expectations. It was a good, earnest vote.

(Not just for her, but for the “cackle” that became before. And the pantsuit. And the joke. And the perseverance. Although it stung to do it in absentia, it was certainly a vote for her.)

Steak knife or stick pin, this year, they’re all protruding from my heart this time, but it just isn’t funny. And you know I can always laugh.

Someone must have already dropped the punch line, but I guess I just wasn’t looking.