Election Day

I’m a real sucker for Election Day. Politics very often frustrate the hell out of me, and politicians very often sicken me, but I’m a huge fan of democracy and this day where we all take a stand for what we believe. I get a little choked up EVERY TIME I vote.

There are a few things in this world that absolutely drive me insane. Among them: Homophobia, movies in which live animals have human voices, corporate catch phrases like “let’s take a 30,000 view” and apathy. Voter apathy really gets my goat.

I’m not saying everyone should go out and run for office, or volunteer for a candidate- it’s VOTING. It’s making a choice. I think most people agree that the system is nuts and politics is full of a lot of bullshit, but so what. There are very few things in this world that aren’t at least partially nuts and full of bullshit.

And that brings me to my family.

I come from a family in which we are all passionate about politics. Our actual voting choices span the entire political spectrum which certainly leads to some frustrating conversations and headaches, but (I think) I’m thankful for it. This mixed bag of political opinions forces me to see things from many sides. I often feel a bit defensive when my fellow progressive/liberal types immediately demonize conservatives and do that stereotyping thing we all love to do. This us/them thing is the easy cop-out. It would be so simple if every issue just had one of two very clear answers.

One of the main reasons I’m politically progressive is because my Republican parents raised me to be that way. They hammered home the point that voting is important. I grew up watching them discuss politics with each other, attend rallies for things in which they believed, and write strongly worded letters when they deemed it necessary. I learned from their example that volunteering is a way of life and it’s important to give- whether it be political campaigns or your church or your favorite charity- financially and with your time. I read from their boring selection of conservative magazines and learned the ways of political rhetoric. I did go through a conservative phase in high school, but ironically I think the Christian youth group of which I was a part, led me to be more liberal. (That’s another story entirely). When it came time for me to vote, I read and researched and talked to people and, as it turned out, those decisions led me in a much more liberal direction than my parents.

Thinking back, my parents never told me how I should vote or what I should believe. I’m pretty sure we’ve never voted the same in any election but whenever I get involved in any political event, my Mom tells me that she’s proud that I take a stand. When Bush was elected, my Mom called and said, “I’m sorry. You must be very disappointed.” I cracked up. She was so sincere.

I do recall a heated discussion with my Dad about public education in which I said, “I’m the product of public education.” He yelled, while laughing, “You’ve just proven my point!!” Touché, mon pere. Touché.

Speaking of my father, I’ve instructed him that should a gentleman ever ask for his blessing to marry me, that he is not allowed to express an opinion because whenever he is given two choices of people to vote for, he has never picked one that I agree with, so I am certainly not leaving it up to him to decide who I should spend my entire life with. (I would, however, agree with his inevitable disdain for the number of ending prepositions in that sentence).

That said, I am very thankful for my conservative parents and the part they’ve played in making me the hippy liberal that I am today.

Happy Election Day, everyone. Go vote.

P.S. Speaking of the election: My politically obsessed friend Chad and I once wrote (just in our heads) a bunch of awesome scenes for a rom com loosely (totally) based on his life about a guy trying to find love on the campaign trail. It’s called “Hanging Chad” and had a tagline along the lines of “Counting votes…for love.” (The sequel will obviously be “Pregnant Chad.”) But I just realized, it wouldn’t be a rom com- it’d be a Rahm Com. Buh dump bump.

Because food is love.

Here we go again. Grace? Coincidence? Just being more aware of something because it’s what’s been on my mind? Maybe all of the above and maybe all of the above are one in the same. Either way…the universe has done it again.

So here’s the deal. My sweet 8 month old niece has put on the proverbial boxing gloves and is fighting a battle with cancer. Chemo begins this week. I don’t think I need to outline how much this sucks. If anyone can win this fight, it’s this gal. She’s got a whole troop of devoted fans on her side (family, doctors, friends, kind strangers).

The other day I was feeling particularly helpless and thought that maybe it would be good to volunteer at the Ronald McDonald House in Chicago. I’ve heard great things about the place and it looks like my family will be using their services in Atlanta. If I can’t be down there to help, at least I could do a little something to help out families in Chicago who are going through something similar. I downloaded the volunteer application and just kind of figured it would be something I’d deal with at some point.

This morning I headed to church figuring the music and reflection and kind people would do a body and mind good. Well, it did. It’s why I keep going back. That and things like this are said in sermons: “Have you guys seen “Brokeback Mountain? OF COURSE. I should’ve assumed that this congregation has seen Brokeback Mountain.” I sat listening to some sweet tune the choir busted out and my mind wandered in all sorts of directions. Then my friend Maria got up to speak. I perked up because who doesn’t love Maria and want to hear what she has to say?

Maria talked, with much humor and eloquence, about her career path and her ongoing journey to figure out what she’s passionate about and how she wants to use those gifts in her life. Thankfully for the rest of us, one of Maria’s great gifts is baking. Another is generosity. Combine the two and suddenly I’m shoving my piehole with the best coconut cake ever produced. But I digress. Kind of. Maria talked about how she’s putting her passions to use in her involvement with the Night Ministry in Chicago and the monthly meals she organizes (from menu planning to cooking to serving). This made me think...

What am I passionate about? Family. Friends. Delicious food prepared with love. Playing guitar badly but loving it anyway. Humor. Creativity. Chicago. The community at Holy Covenant United Methodist Church (even thought I’m not Methodist and don’t even really know what it means and am not sure I care that much at this point because I love it there). Volunteering. Staying healthy. Enjoying the outdoors. Appreciating the differences in people. Writing. And that people should take their fucking lawn chairs out of these parking spots that they don’t own. And many more things.

My thoughts wandered back to that volunteer application from Ronald McDonald House sitting on my desktop. Here’s what I came up with. I’d like to organize cooking a meal for the residents at Ronald McDonald House at least once a month. I hope to get a posse of pals together to head over there and cook up the meal with me. I hope these meals will be interesting and delicious with as many locally grown ingredients as possible. Because that’s the NPR-listening, urban, yuppie-type I enjoy being sometimes. I’m happy to donate money to pay for the meals but cooking for about 50 once a month may be beyond my budget. Hmmm...how to pay for it. Let’s check the list of passions…sell lawn chairs? Maybe but not feasible all year round. Oh…play guitar badly and charge people! YES! I will make (suggest to) some of my Old Town pals play somewhere and we can charge a nominal fee that can go to my monthly meals at Ronald McDonald House fund. Fun will be had by all.

I’ll figure out the logistics for RMH and let Chicago folks know when I’m gonna get my cook on. Feel free to join me. In the mean time, prayers and good thoughts for my little gal are very much appreciated.

She comes from a long line of strong folks so I have faith that she’ll KO cancer.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, little lady.