My butt hurts…..I had a real hard time writing this column this week due to the fact my butt hurts. It hurts because as of the writing of this column I’m sitting on pins and needles about the local Republican primary.
I could care less who is elected president. No matter how crazy local Republicans think I am and hate me for saying it, including members of my own family and some of my closest friends, Obama is going to be the president for the next four years and throwing Mittens or any of those other rug-chewing goofs at him isn’t going to matter. He’s going to win.
In fact, I think that most of the national Republican leaders are resigned to the fact. Why else would they field such lackluster candidates? Not a truly sane one among the bunch, but then who is?
I think even die hard Republicans realize we don’t need another president with poppy issues. (George Romney, Mitt’s father, ran unsuccessfully for the Republican nomination for President of the United States in 1968.)
No, my anxiety is for the local candidates, mostly Republican, who have primary opponents.
I waited until practically the last minute to vote–Friday, late afternoon.
I hate to vote early. I’m always afraid someone I voted for will do something really stupid before the traditional Tuesday and I won’t be able to take back my vote.
For example, I’m afraid that white bread perfect candidate Brenda Mullinix might be discovered to have a whole ‘nother family in the next county. I’m afraid that Mr. U.S. Army Troy Nehls might be discovered to be AWOL from the Navy!! fergoshsakes.
I hate to vote early for another reason. When I vote, I want to results to be immediately available, like on the “Star’s” web site when we post burning questions. When I vote early, I might have to wait for DAYS as opposed to when I vote on election day, it is only a matter of hours.
However, I’ve occasionally thought that I might accidently die before election day so it’s a good thing to go on and vote early. As I’ve grown older, the possibility of it being an accidental death as opposed to natural causes grows more remote. Unless some unhinged candidate comes gunning for me, which isn’t so likely a remote possibility this year. (If I die a suspicious death, make sure Craig Brady is indicted.)
I think of when my mother lived with me and voted by mail. I, of course, told her how to vote. I have nightmares of growing old, living with my son Michael who fills out my ballot for all the ultra-conservative candidates and I’m too demented to know about it.
Maybe they should let you name a power of attorney for your financial affairs (I’d trust Michael for that) but I could name another surrogate for my political affairs (I’d name some libural for that.)
Anyway, I could not think of a topic for my column this week and here I have blathered away a whole 1 and 1/2 column. I’ll never be silenced!
One more thing…..This is not weighty enough for a whole column, but I have a question. Just who was it that decided a little while ago that men on television and in ads that needed a shave were sexy. Used to be that was the way we could tell the bad guys. They needed a shave.
But lately, every male lead in a movie or television drama needs a shave. Is that to give the brunettes a leg up on the blondies? Who was the first? Will it ever be written in the history books?