My Political Machine

The real political landscape has been such a train wreck of late that it is nearly impossible to turn away. My ideal version of politics doesn’t have staunch opinions, sound platforms, or cohesive arguments as much as it has snark and sarcasm. Over the weekend I made a couple of political observations that received some funny feedback:

I saw a news clip where some demented knucklehead was already talking about assassination and I thought, wow… it took me 49 years to notice that the word assassinate has ass in it twice.

Say what you want about the women’s march, their determination is impressive. If men planned a march we would never choose a cold Saturday in January. We would loosely plan a brief, warm-weather protest that didn’t interfere with football, March Madness, or hunting season. Perhaps something of a global toast during a commercial break.

One of my friends suggested I should run for office. I know it was tongue-in-cheek, but that will never happen because it pseudo-happened once before and the results were disastrous.

Thirty years ago – a young buck, arrived in the big city with pristine ideals and a shimmering view of how things should be. Untainted by the sludgy dregs of political gruel, he set out to make his way in the world. Quickly entrenched in party activism, his work ethic, potential, and shockingly white teeth were spotted and he was raised up as a candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives – or possibly someone with the exact same name as him was, my memory is weak on that point.

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And this is just one of a myriad of reasons why I would make a lousy politician – my memory is so bad that I’ve whitewashed it over the years. I am sure I wouldn’t get too far into an election cycle before some dirty little secret from deep in the past would be paraded across the evening news and my handlers would ask, “Is that true?” And there I would be, staring blankly at the screen thinking, “Uh… she looks vaguely familiar.”

But seriously, with everyone holding cameras 24-7, I wonder who will ever be able to run for office again? There is too much film, too many potentially compromising selfies, too many texts for anyone to be clean. Fault and moral weakness can be found in everyone if we dig into their piles of digital information. Then, I remember who just won the highest office in the land…

Strange world we live in.

The truth – a young buck, fresh from college and not concerned about much beyond the weekend in a big city notices that a guy with his exact name was running for congress. He collected his quarters for gas (making sure he didn’t tap into the Friday night fund) and goes down to the party headquarters to volunteer. Signing in as John McClane, he stuffs three envelopes before sneaking out with every yard sign and bumper sticker he can carry, throws them into his jalopy and drives off with the little party manager in his too-short tie chasing after himt

I still remember seeing him in the rearview mirror yelling pitifully, “John? Where are you going, John?”

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I put those signs and stickers everywhere and told my family that I was running for office. And here is where I learned I had no future in politics. My grandmother immediately said,

“I wouldn’t vote for you. You are way too young and you’ve already made too many dubious choices.”

And there you have it. If you can’t get your grandmother to vote for you, you should never run!

 

(Bonus points if you recognized my assumed name)

Photo Credit: JD Hancock

Jeander Equality

Sitting with my daughter at church, I watched with amusement as she set her phone on her lap. In a matter of minutes, the inevitable happened and it slid off onto the floor. This is why I insist on Otterboxes. All of my girls drop their phones constantly… Constantly!

While she blushed and picked it up, three questions came to mind.

  • Why did you have to bring your phone into church?
  • Why did you act surprised?
  • Why didn’t you just put it in your pocket?

 

My phone was safely nestled in the fold of my pants pocket. It couldn’t go far and there was no chance of dropping it. That answers one question but doesn’t answer the question of why I felt the need to bring it into the building. I certainly wouldn’t risk angering God by looking at it during the sermon and pretending that I had opened a Bible app – He knows you’re checking Facebook! The social media gurus debate why posts from 9 to noon on Sunday get no traction. The answer is easy – they are cursed by God because you are either in church or should be. Read More