My mom called to chat this evening. She was “Granny Nanny” this evening; she was baby-sitting my seven-year old nephew this evening as my sister went out for a night on the town. My nephew had a friend over; they were watching a wrestling movie. My nephew then apparently decided to relocate the cat’s bed while she was eating in the kitchen. My mom had to pause our conversation to ask why the cat’s bed was being relocated. There was no real response except my mother let out a little bit of a noise that resembled what I would have heard at my nephew’s age when I relocated the cat’s bed. It was good to hear that even though it was 40 years later, the old girl still has that feisty kick.
I mentioned in a blog entry earlier this week that my family didn’t really talk about politics when I was growing up. My mom apparently still reads my blog (hi Mom!) because she thanked me for recognizing that she made thought out choices when she votes. This spurred a conversation about the upcoming Presidential elections. We actually talked politics. She’s the more liberal minded of the family. My social awareness, such as it was when I was growing up, was definitely influenced by her. I remember her telling me that Anita Bryant was a very mean lady that didn’t like some people when I saw her on the news with a pie in her face. She didn’t get wicked upset when a distant cousin came out as gay in the late 1970s (others in the family kind of had a freak out). We talked about taxes and our impressions of the New York State Welfare System and both agreed that it is way too easy to abuse. It was a great conversation. When talking about the Presidential elections, we both agreed that neither of us were thrilled with the choices that were shaping up for November but we further agreed that we didn’t think it would be a good thing if Trump became President (I really can’t see that man with access to the nuclear codes). We would vote for whomever we thought was the least damaging to the country as a whole. I told her I would have a gun in the house if the wrong choices were made and chaos insued. That sparked a conversation about my dad teaching me how to shoot all sorts of guns when I was a late teenager and that I was still pretty good at it. There were other points of the discussion that were quite nice and refreshing. I’m happy that I can talk to her about these things as an adult. It was a great conversation.
I can’t imagine living in Iowa, New Hampshire or South Carolina right now with the barrage of political ads that they must be enduring. With the GOP beating the war drums of fear in an unprecedented fury, Bernie Sanders yelling about his far-left social ideals and Hillary doing her thing again, I don’t know if I would be able to watch any media in those influential states without quivering in fear that another attack ad was going to grace my television screen.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that my ideal candidate just ain’t gonna happen in November. The best we can hope for is to weigh all the points and plans and elect the person that is going to do the least amount of damage by respecting majority opinion, the Constitution and the recognition that “all men are created equal”. I want a Patriot, not a Grandstander.
I want us to move forward again. And I look forward to talking to my Mom about it.
