I had promised myself that I wouldn’t spend this week’s column writing about the immense train wreck that is our modern political system, but with the networks and papers and internet covering nothing else, I find it harder and harder to contain myself. Even here, in the great state ofTexas, where our beloved Texas Rangers are more than half way to becoming the Buffalo Bills of Major League Baseball, all anyone is talking about is politics.
As we swing into the second week of political conventions, I think I speak for most of us when I say, “Please! Enough already!”
Truth be told, I was tired of the election cycle about this time last year and it has only gotten worse. Now, I can’t walk by an empty chair without looking around to see if Clint Eastwood is performing political theater. If one of my boys wants to play catch out in the back yard, I am careful to say, “Grab your glove” because the phrase “grab your mitt” sounds too political. When I drive by the golf course, I look the other way for fear of seeing the President out there.
I have a friend who refuses to vote because he says it’s a waste of time. I go out and vote every chance I get because I hate to give heed to the idea that my vote doesn’t matter. But then, I watch the men and women I voted for—the ones who won, anyway—and see that even though they are in power, they don’t keep their promises. At first, I try to tell myself that it’s because of the corrupt system and, given some time and seniority and (quite possibly) enough liquor, they’ll stand up and do what they promised to do when I voted for them.
But they don’t. On November 7, their first priority will be to begin their reelection campaign because what politicians want, above all else, is to stay in office. And who can blame them? They’re exempt from most of the laws they pass regarding us peons, they have excellent medical care while they gut ours, and their retirement benefits would be criminal if they weren’t the ones writing the laws.
Where can I get that job?
But then I watch the conventions and I realize that one of the prerequisites for being an elected official is that, apparently, you have to dress up. There is no job I want bad enough to do that, so I guess my political aspirations die aborning (that’s my new word for the day: “die”) as I would want to show up on capitol hill in my shorts and Snoopy T-shirt.
I would like to end this column by saying that I look forward to election day, when this will all be over, but as I have already stated: it never ends anymore. At least I can watch football now … the Cowboys start their season against who?!?! Guess I’ll read a book.