Sunday, May 15, 2011

Raisin in the Sun

I walked into the gym prepared to battle the treadmill for 11 miles. I have Baby Boy on one hip, my Ipod fully charged and a bottle of zero calorie Vitamin Water, which is nasty and bitter unless you’re dying of thirst. I’m wearing shorts because I hate clothes touching my sweaty body but I haven’t yet found a private nudist gym. Very private, as in only one member--me. I check Baby Boy into the nursery and tell him to be good for the next 2 hours. I’m not a fast runner. I walk to the treadmills which are on the opposite side of the gym. I’m ready. I am a warrior. I am a running maniac. I am...

Wearing a squished raisin on my knee.

I’m not very astute when it comes to fashion, but even I know that wearing big chunks of food should be avoided. Unless you’re Lady Gaga, and then you can only wear meat, it seems. The vegetarian version of that outfit is not nearly as comment-provoking.

But it did get me some good stares, which is why I noticed it.

I would not make a good politician. First of all, because I say stupid things all the time, and stupid things always seem to make the news. Second, because I walk out of the house without checking myself in the mirror. I’m rather surprised that I haven’t had raisins coating my body more often. Third, I have morals. Not high ones, and not anything Mother Teresa would recognize as being moral, but more than politicians have.

So, here’s Mitt Romney. I don’t like him. I don’t trust people with hair that perfect. Aside from his hair, I don’t like his remade political views. But I’ve got to hand it to him. Massachusetts is dying over the ballooning costs of the health care system he put in place, and instead of back-pedaling, he’s chutzpah-ing through it. Man is either stupid or has cajones. I’m still not sending him money, though.

I think Palin and Romney should be on a ticket together. It could be called the Hair Team.

I hate politics. But worse than politics is the lack of a functioning political system. Think of the Congo, where it’s estimated that 1,152 women are raped. A day. That’s 48 women per hour. It takes political control through fear to a whole new level.

Here’s a quote from an 18 year old soldier. “We rape women in order to beat the enemy.” One-third of the rapes involve children, and 13 percent are against children under 10.

This is what I would like to see politicians figuring out. The most powerful nation in the world, at least until our rating is downgraded because we can’t pay our loans, and we’re worried about raisins on our knees instead of the state of our sisters. We’re more worried about seeing Obama’s birth certificate than we are about the suffering of the whole nation of Congo.

Excuse me now. I’ve got to step off my high horse.


3 comments:

buttercup said...

I never remember to check myself in the mirror before I leave the house. Sad.

halsadick said...

Heavy. For a split second I was considering donating to Romney, but (a) money is not exactly flowing out of my wallet like milk and honey right now and (b) it would be good money after bad since candidates who are officially "not going to run" have a better chance of winning the election this time around than he does.

Irish Cream said...

Have you read "Half the Sky"? Good read, thought provoking. Lets you realize you're on a high horse and helps you transition to the step down. And, it lets you put money where it can actually do some good, instead of in a pocket of a man running for president who you know won't make it anyway... I definitely would rather send my grass-roots $20 contribution to an organization that would educate girls than to pay for a button that shouts "Change!" or "Vote for fill in the blank".