Cactus Soup

It’s my day off and I’ve gotten nothing done.  In my perusal of the usual internet ramblings, I came across this article on Slate.  

This must be a joke.  Honestly, if the scenario the author outlines should actually happen, I fear we wouldn’t need to worry about whether McCain is RE-ELECTABLE in 2012.  We would need to worry about whether there was a country left to have an election in.  This country, my homeland, has become something that I’m not terribly proud of.  And with a McCain presidency it is destined to become much worse.   Already with the gas prices shooting skyward on a daily basis, food costs have gone up and truckers are balking at making a trip that sometimes COSTS them money rather than earns them a paycheck.  I can’t blame them.  Now there is the Rice Panic of 2008 and Hillary Clinton talking about annihilating Iran as though it were as simple as doing a load of laundry.  The currency is practically laughable and soon I figure it will be like the peso in Mexico.  This is not the future I dreamed of as a child.  This is not my country any more.

Barack Obama cannot drop out of this race.  He is our hope for the future.  I just hope he realizes that.

Age.  It’s not really something I think about all that often.  I mean, I usually remember how old I am (though for a time last year I did keep saying I was 39 when I was reallly still 38… for some reason I actually thought I was 39… senility already?) but I don’t really think all that much about it.   That is, until recently. 

You see, my birthday falls on January 20th — inauguration day for those who follow such things.  My mother liked to tell people that the world got both me and Richard Nixon on the same day and we know how the latter turned out.  So, my 40th birthday (a rather large milestone in the first place) also is the day when we, as a nation, finally free ourselves of George Bush and get a new president.  My hopes are that it will be a celebratory day and we’ll have a democrat in office again.   But my 40th birthday is a date many Democrats and Progressives are crossing their fingers for.  But a milestone that I’m a bit squeamish of and one that is looming around the proverbial corner.

Then today I read an article on MSN about aging and it had a slideshow about how celebrities have aged.  Wow… I better start taking much better care of my face because I can’t afford all that plastic surgery.  So now I’m staring at a mirror worrying about crows feet and my 40th birthday.  Great way to spend a day off from work huh?

All I have to say for this post is:  I blame the writers strike.  It’s all their fault.

For years I have been able to claim that outside of a few dalliances — a brief fling with “Rock Star: INXS”, and a shameful affair with “Project Runway” — I’ve been pretty faithful in my disdain for the reality tv craze.  I’ve be faithful to my strange assortment of television shows that I covet — generally either involving crimes (CSIs), dysfunctional geniuses (House, Law & Order Criminal Intent), or strangely supernatural entities (The 4400 (RIP), Moonlight, Buffy (RIP), New Amsterdam, Supernatural).  As someone who likes to both write and read fiction I like to lose myself in a good (albeit unrealistic) plot after a long day of work. 

Then came came the damn writers strike.  I seriously didn’t think it would last all that long… I mean a couple weeks, right?  But no… and soon everything I watched was a rerun.  Soon all of the CSI episodes that cable plays at almost every hour of the day were all old to me, and I can only watch so many in a row before I start plotting my own crimes.  So… one evening when I had run out of books to read and was tired of playing on the computer I turned on the television.  And what was on?  What?  I shudder to say it… “American Idol”.  I watched it.  I watched all the ridiculous auditions and said that would be it… it was simply fun to watch the delusions of people (I have a cruel sense of humor, I’m okay with that).  But, saying you’ll only try it once is like saying you’ll only eat one Lays potato chip.  American Idol and Lays bank on the fact that you can’t “eat just one”.  So now I’m hooked.

Not only am I hooked — I am voting.  It took me awhile to actually begin voting, but like any good drug (or potato chip) after awhile your defenses wear down and soon you are out there in the gutter searching for change while wearing nothing but a thong.  Okay… maybe not… but I’ve devolved, I fear, and I’m okay with that.  Both I and my Star-Wars-quoting hubby have begun voting.  Oh I didn’t tell you that when I fell off the reality tv wagon, I pulled the Sci-Fi Spouse down with me?  Ahhh… well one can’t scrounge around in the gutter all alone can one?  He’s watching it too… and voting.  We have only one “horse” in the American Idol race, and should he be voted off we will likely stop watching.  We are David Cook fans.  He is really the main reason I watch the show any more.  I think I may swoon for him before it’s all over.  If he is eliminated I vow to stop watching the show entirely.  The rest of the contestants I really can take or leave, but I do enjoy my David Cook time.

So, in truth my fall into the gutter of reality television can be blamed on both the writers strike (damn writers) and David Cook.  I, certainly, am without any responsibility for my addictions.  Right?

So it’s Primary day again.  This time it’s the great state of Pennsylvania and I must say, I can’t wait for it to be over.   I’m really growing weary of all of the fighting and bickering.  

What worries me most about this especially vicious primary season is that with all of the name calling and nastiness, will the Democratic party ever really be able to come back together once it’s over?   I’m a listener of progressive talk radio (NovaM) and it seems that our party is more divided than ever.  Followers of either candidate regularly call in and state how they “will stay home and not vote at all” if the opposing candidate gets the nomination.  This is not how we take back America!  This is how we allow “George W. Bush II — the McCain Years” to become the most hellish sequel ever known.  This cannot happen. 

I understand that you have a favored “horse” in the race.  That’s great.  I have a preferred candidate too, however, if my candidate does not get the nomination I am not going to “take my toys and go home”.  I am going to take a deep breath and put all of my fervor and passion into getting that candidate elected president.  Saying that you aren’t going to vote, or, god-forbid, saying that you will vote for McCain rather than your chosen Democrat is not only stupid, it’s just plain bad for America.  In a land where all the media seems to care about is whether a candidate wears a Chinese-made flag pin, we need to band together and take back our country.  We can’t do that if all we have is in-fighting within our own party.  So let’s get this damn primary season over with so we can start concentrating on beating McCain.

Who’s with me?

Would someone please wake me up when the Hillary/Barack debacle is over?  I’m a devout Democrat but this primary season is KILLING me.  What do we have to do to stop beating each other up over what someone’s preacher/husband/wife/minion said?  Hello?  My husband says stupid stuff all the time (sorry, sweetie… I love you but you know it’s true) but thank god no one is holding me accountable for all of the goofy Star Wars references he makes on a daily basis.  May the force be with you.  And also with you.  Catholics and George Lucas fans everywhere are cringing, but I live with this everyday.  We do stupid stuff.  We know stupid people.  Hell, I even have stupid pets (sorry, guys, but if you could remember where you left your squeaky toy from day to day no one would call you stupid).  So let’s stop twisting the knives in each other’s backs, fellow Democrats and let’s get to the real debates.  John McCain is waiting and stupid as he might be he is watching every snarky nasty comment that is made about our candidates and is storing them up.  Let’s start using our power for good.  And to use a phrase my husband loves so much… may the force be with us.

For those of you who don’t know… I am a disabled woman.  I don’t blog about being disabled because in all honesty it isn’t really how I define myself.  For most people who see me but don’t know me, the wheelchair would probably be the first thing they mention when asked about me.  For me, it’s actually probably the last thing I’d discuss if asked about who I am.  And sometimes I might even leave it out entirely.  It’s not that I am ashamed of it, I just don’t really think all that much about it.

That said, I do have some questions that I’d like the able-bodied community to help me with, if you don’t mind. 

1.  Why is the handicapped stall in the women’s rest room like the Holy Grail of all stalls?  I understand it’s large, but unless you have a baby in a stroller or are actually disabled, why do you need all that extra space?  You are peeing, not hosting a high-school prom.

2. Why do you let your children come up to my chair and start pushing me around?  I don’t know you, don’t know your children and didn’t ask for a push.  Would you let your children just start pushing other children’s strollers around, or their shopping carts?  Same thing here.  I don’t mind your kids talking to me, but they need to keep their hands off of my chair.  I don’t pick strangers kids up and wheel them around, so please don’t let them push me into a wall just for fun.  You scoff, it’s happened. 

3.  Do you honestly think I like talking to your belt buckle?  For god’s sake, sit down once in awhile so I can have a conversation where I don’t feel like I’m a lead actor in “Honey, I Just Shrunk Our Friend”. 

4.  Why must you sometimes park on top of the ramp?  I understand you are “just dropping someone off” or “just picking something up” and you, kindly, left the handicapped parking places free for me to park.  Now if I could just get in the building, we’d be all set.  Unless you are picking up someone who can’t walk up or down a step, please consider parking over the ramp akin to parking in the fire lane.

I’m sure there are more great mysteries I’d love to have cleared up, but this will do for the moment.  Happy Weekend.