I have a confession to make. I did not vote this week. That’s a terrible thing to admit out loud, much less in print, especially for a naturalized citizen who vowed to uphold the duties and responsibilities of citizenship. But by sitting this one out, I am making my point. I am disgusted by the partisan politics that have divided this nation and produced gridlock the likes of which New York City at rush hour on a presidential visit day could not even begin to imagine.
Now, with the Republican victories in Congress coloring the country red, and a Senate and House both on the opposite side of the president on party politics, a new era of do-nothingness is about to begin, and I am just done with all of that. There is talk that one of the goals will be to overturn the Affordable Care Act, scathingly nicknamed Obamacare, and this troubles me greatly.
How about turning our priorities into action that makes me feel better about walking through Grand Central Station without worrying that terrorists are up to nefarious activity? How about taking a decisive leadership role overseas that allows me to log in to the morning headlines without cringing out of fear that I’ll see another innocent American beheaded by monsters?
How about curbing gun violence so that we can walk safely through our major cities without looking over our shoulders, or being able to send our children off to school safe from the fear that a disgruntled classmate just might make some terrible choices? How about enforcing a stronger code of public health so that we don’t have to worry about catching deadly diseases on airplanes or in our hospitals?
Our nation is going to hell in a hand basket, and our elected leaders are crowing about whose will is going to prevail when the really important issues are being lost in a sea of vitriol. Yeah, I sat this one out, like many Americans who also are hoping that our silence will speak volumes.
Since it’s confession time, I’ve got another one. I recently received a ticket from the Hillsborough police as I was driving on Route 206, that nightmare molasses road clogged by too many cars, too many lights, and too many cops eager to make their monthly nut. Well, I was guilty, not for speeding, but for a cell phone violation. I did have it on speaker, but the very act of holding it in my hand landed me a ticket.
So there I was, in the middle of one glorious autumn afternoon, stuck in a courtroom packed with many glum-looking people. Sitting in court actually provides a fascinating look at the human species, in a light that is not the most attractive.
In addition to others who had been nailed on the cell phone infraction (must be hands-free), there were those who had driven at way excessive speeds, driven without a license, or operated while impaired. There were a couple of random shoplifters.
Even more interesting were the no-shows, whose various crimes and repeated failures to show up produced a droning of the charges from the judge.
In the end, I paid the ticket, a whopping $239. I agree that the experience does have a deterrent effect. I have vowed never to be caught again. I have invested in a Bluetooth system, but really, I don’t see how much less a distraction it is talking on a cell phone that way, even if it is hands-free.
Enough on the bad confessions. I actually have a happy confession. I have chosen the song I will dance to with Will at his wedding. This is funny, especially since the poor kid hasn’t even been to his first high school prom, much less thought about getting married, which, if it does happen, is years in the future. But indulge me just a little bit.
Most of the time my brain is crowded with thoughts like what am I going to make for dinner, how am I going to get across town in time for the pickup, are there enough socks and underwear in his drawers, am I going to make the deadline, can I move the money around in time, can I squeeze the dogs in for a grooming, where did I stash those coupons, why is the refrigerator making that funny noise, can I still serve that leftover spaghetti sauce, I really should get the car in for an oil change, and so on. So if my mind can drift off to happier thoughts, what is the harm in that?
The song is from “Hope Floats,” a movie starring Sandra Bullock and Harry Connick Jr. that came out in 1998, the year before Will was born. While the film itself was mediocre, the soundtrack rocked, and one of my favorite songs is “All I Get” by the Mavericks. I would spin around the family room with my tiny boy tucked into my arms, two-stepping, and then crooning, “ah-ooh, ah-ooh, ah-ooh” with the chorus. And this luscious baby seemed to try to croon back at me, pursing his little lips, and I fell in love over and over again with this morsel of a human being.
Even back then my thoughts would fast-forward to the future when the tables would be turned and he would spin me around the floor in his arms. “Oh, ma,” he would probably groan, and “oh, crazy ma,” he would probably think, but the reality is that my dear friend Carmen, who did precisely this wedding spin around the floor with her son, Brendon, just a couple of short years ago, will be holding her very first grandchild, a boy, in her arms come spring.
Carmen is only a few weeks older than I am and is over the moon about this new life about to enter her life. And though she started her family before I did, I am really not that far behind. So I am wise to plan ahead.
Confession time, good and bad, is over. To paraphrase Mark Antony in Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar,” thank you for lending me your ears. I feel a lot better now.
