David and I don’t watch any sports teams, we watch politicians for entertainment. I don’t have any favorites in the political races this year. In the past, I have cared too much about one person or another and ended up extremely disappointed. I won’t know how I will vote until I walk in the voting booth. David is rooting for Jeb Bush. Jeb is a likeable guy but polling very low. Meanwhile Dr. Carson and Donald Trump are all over the place. And both are suffering from hoof and mouth disease.
David and I voted in our local election this past week, producing voter IDs and using paper ballots. Not surprisingly, all our local offices were filled with Democrats. We have one-party rule here in the solid blue “People’s Republic” of Arlington. Mostly the local politicians do a good job, but we really don’t have a democracy. Our state representatives go to Richmond to fight with the Republicans who come from the rest of the Commonwealth. Virginia is a purple state because much blood has been spilled in the capitol building.
Here in Washington DC, the newspapers keep track of elections all over the world. Thus we can root for Erdogan when he takes the vote in Turkey or Trudeau in Canada. Left or Right the only thing that matters is that their people like them, they keep the peace and don’t financially ruin their country, and are US allies. Peace, that’s what we all want, although it seems a pipe dream in this sad old world.
When we aren’t watching the various international elections, we can focus on State and local elections here in the US. There’s always an election somewhere in these days of widespread democracy. Well, except in one sad part of West Asia, but I won’t talk about that because it does no good.
Earlier this week, I was discussing Middle East* politics with Nash, my hair stylist. Nash is the child of Lebanese refugees and he tells me he is so grateful his parents left Lebanon and came to the US years back. His family is Christian and he worries about relatives remaining in places controlled by Hezbollah. He doesn’t say much about US politics, his parents taught him to be wary….politics can get you killed.
Mostly he asks me about my family, he knows my daughter and granddaughters. Nash did their hair for graduations, proms, weddings and such before they scattered across Virginia to attend college and work. I keep him up on my family news, about the great-grandbaby due next May and that Connie’s hair is as white as mine and I have little idea of the color of anybody else’s hair.
Connie is thrilled at the idea of becoming a grandmother. She says she wants the baby to call her Grammy, the name she called my Mom.
Connie is the only person besides me and my sibs who remembers Mom. The rest are gone.
Seems like only yesterday, High Point NC, 1962