Thursday, July 16, 2015

A Miss Is as Good as a Mile

I lived for a not inconsiderable amount of my years outside the United States (the total percentage of my life lived like that gets smaller every day (that’s a math joke, btw)) and nearly all the Europeans I encountered were constantly bewildered and bemused at how lackadaisical we as Americans were, and are, about exercising the power of voting. 

Most (Western) European nations back in the day had balloting on Sundays and turnout of registered voters was about 80% and more. In Eastern Europe, balloting was held at a secret time and location but turnout was almost always 100% (that’s a geopolitical joke of sorts).

Far more of us can name all the members of the Kardashian Family and Friends than know who the nine members of the Supreme Court are. I just tripped myself up there with a mini-movie of Chief Justice Kanye announcing the expansion of the Fair Housing Act while Associate Justice, Kimster, breaks the internet with her dissent. I sometimes fear my reveries could be realities.

At last count the only people NOT seeking the Presidential nomination of a major party are you and I and I’ve heard a story that if you can get that felony off your record, you might still try. Good luck with that, by the way; quite frankly if it hadn’t been such an ugly sheep, no one would have called the cops.

Sadly, I am already predicting, the enthusiasm to BE a candidate will not translate well come the General Election after the party primaries, demolition derby debates and the swimsuit competition (yeah, I’m looking at you, Governor Christie) in terms of voter participation. It never does.

I don’t know if it’s our inherent cynicism (let’s face it, too often it really does seem to be a ‘choice of cancer or polio’) or our nearly terminal Attention Deficit Disorder that impacts our concentration on-LOOK! BIKES!- something as important as our nation’s tomorrow. Sorry about the bikes, but they were so shiny and had streamers on the handlebars.

This is an infinity of mirrors parlor trick story. On a slow news day, the folks we rely on to tell us what’s important in the world decide this (somehow) is. But instead of concentrating on the talents and abilities of those seeking our nation’s highest office (let that phrase and the image of Donald Trump roll around in your brain for a moment; yeah, makes me smile, too) that is a sidebar to a story about two young women who get their pictures taken with the candidates. You can read a LOT more about them here. 

No need to thank me for finding that for you and, of course, you are welcome. We may be stupid around here (yeah, I’m looking at you and those goofy glasses, Governor Perry) but we are always polite. Even when we say ‘no problem’ in response to others saying ‘thank you.’ 

Think of this kind of political near-involvement as a Grey Line Tour to Hitler’s Bunker during the Fall of Berlin while on speed. Not that I would know anything about that (that was a pharmaceutical joke). It’s a result not unlike what might happen if we sent Cynthia Plaster Caster to shoot a documentary on the College of Cardinals. In Saint Louis, of course. Where did you think I meant
-bill kenny

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