Sundays with Stretchy Pants

It’s like Tuesdays with Morrie, without all the wisdom.

Archive for the ‘I like politics?’


*dreamy sigh*

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Do you see that? There, in the bottom right corner? Cool. Just in case you can’t see it very well:

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That’s right. Barack Obama really is our next president. Woohoo!

We had a little party over here last night. I thought when I woke up this morning, Mr. President-Elect would’ve had this place all cleaned up, but he didn’t. I’m beginning to regret my vote. I voted for change and it’s all just the same: I went to bed with a dirty house and woke up with a dirty house. Kidding!

Sorry about the delay in the acceptance speech, but he was busy emailing me to thank me for everything I did for his campaign:

I’m about to head to Grant Park to talk to everyone gathered there, but I wanted to write to you first.
We just made history.

But I want to be very clear about one thing…
All of this happened because of you.

Thank you,
Barack

Yup, we’re friends. What? Other people got that email too? Well, it’s just because Barack has lots of friends. It doesn’t make my email any less special.

So the kids filled out the electoral college map with red and blue stickers. It came with the School House Rock Election Collection DVD.

They seemed to have fun with that, but they kind of balked at watching the acceptance speech. But Dawn and Kristen and Lynne and I weren’t having it. We forced them to watch history happen and, dammit, we forced them to like it. I liked it. Did you like it? If not, were you as gracious about it as Sen. McCain? Or did you boo like his a-hole supporters did every time he mentioned Obama in his concession speech? That was lame. But I thought McCain’s speech was excellent. Very classy. Now I have to make like Obama and clean up! Have a good first-day-not-worrying-about-the-election! Unless you live in Minnesota.

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Vote!

I saw this on Feministe:

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Tongueless

We’re just getting back and unpacked from our trip to Chesaning. I think I might have bitten my tongue off at certain points, but it grew back and the trip was still lots of fun. And my husband is proud of me for just shrugging, shaking my head, and hiding in the other room from time to time instead of shrieking, “ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS TERRORIST CRAP?” over and over. Because, really, I can handle most any other reason why a person doesn’t want to vote for Obama, but the terrorist stuff? That’s just ignorant.

A couple of times when he saw my face turn red and noticed the arch of my eybrows and the cock of my head that usually signifies the beginning of a verbal onslaught accompanied by The Tone, he had to squeeze my shoulder and whisper through clenched teeth, “Do not get involved. Promise me you will not get involved. Here, drink this! Drink it faster!” I don’t know what he was so afraid of.

For the record, there are lots of Obama supporters in the family on both sides, but it was still plenty disconcerting scary interesting to be around the very few McCain supporters. My dad accused me of brainwashing my children, so I had to tell him and his girlfriend that brainwashing wasn’t necessary, as my daughters are afraid Sarah Palin is coming for their uteruses, which made Maya say, “Does Sarah Palin want to take my uterus?” To which I replied very sweetly, “No honey, she just wants to be the boss of your uterus. But we know she’s not the boss of your uterus, right? Who’s the boss of your uterus?” And she very proudly pointed to herself and said, “JUST ME!” Good times. In fact, that visit was so fun and has me feeling so bipartisan-ish today that I’m going to post a “Women for McCain” video that my sister-in-law, Tracy sent me.

Don’t forget to vote tomorrow!

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Just Because I Haven’t Seen It in a While

And because it’s Sunday and watching this video is just like going to church. I mean, if you go to church to worship the antichrist. Haha just kidding. He’s totally not the antichrist. Probably. (I’m talking about Will.I.Am, not Obama).

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It’s Saturday.

Watch this. “Wassup” 8 years later:

(Thanks Terreece.)

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They’re Not Supposed to Answer the Phones.

I made some calls for Obama again last night and it was brutal. People aren’t supposed to answer their phones at this point in the election. They’re supposed to be so sick of getting calls that when they see the caller ID pop up with a number they don’t recognize, they’re supposed to mutter, “Dadgum political calls!” and walk away. How else can people like me feel like we’re helping the campaign without really doing anything? I love leaving messages and stuff, but I’m not so good with the talking to strangers.

I don’t want to discourage people from volunteering, but last night was hard. The first time I did it, I talked to about 7 people out of almost 70. Last night, almost half of my 48 calls were answered. By grumpy people. There were some bright spots, but my very first call started with, “That bastard isn’t getting my vote!” which I thought was rude even for a McCain supporter. Some of the people who answered just wanted to keep their vote private, which I understand so we just chatted a little bit, and I tried to suck up to them and make rainbows and unicorns travel through the phone lines, but I don’t know if that works when I’m calling from a cell phone. (By the way, Lena drew a picture yesterday and the caption was, “I HATE UNICORNS!” Is this the beginning of the slippery slope to being goth?) Sometimes I found myself randomly shouting, “COLIN POWELL!” which would make the person kind of stutter and say, “Uh, yeah, he’s a…he’s a real good guy…and I respect him a lot,” and then I would try to convince them that if Colin Powell says so, we should vote for Obama. But most of the people I talked to claimed to be undecided. And when I was talking to those people, I really wished I hadn’t seen this clip from The Daily Show because I really felt like saying the things that Samantha Bee and Jason Jones start saying at about 2:30 in this video:

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Love and Confusion

How much do you love what Colin Powell said on Meet the Press? Not even the bit about endorsing Obama but this bit:

Well, the correct answer is, he is not a Muslim, he’s a Christian. He’s always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer’s no, that’s not America. Is there something wrong with some seven-year-old Muslim-American kid believing that he or she could be president? Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, “He’s a Muslim and he might be associated terrorists.” This is not the way we should be doing it in America.

I cried. Did you cry? I did. Because he’s Colin frickin’ Powell and he’s finally saying what I wish all of the other powerful people would say. Even if he came out to endorse McCain, I would have still felt the same surge of extra respect. Endorsing Obama is just the icing on the Colin Powell cake.

As for the Sarah Palin on SNL, I’m confused by my feelings. First of all, she wasn’t funny. Second, she just kind of seemed like a punching bag, which I love, but that also makes things murky for me because here’s this woman who isn’t smart enough to realize that just because she’s on Saturday Night Live doesn’t mean she’s in on the joke. She was still the butt of the joke and the fact that she wasn’t smart enough to realize that and not put herself in that situation speaks to her desperate ignorance even more than any terrible Katie Couric interview. It’s one thing for Tina Fey to do her hilarious imitation of her when Palin isn’t there, but I couldn’t believe that Palin felt good about standing there while Alec Baldwin went on a tirade about her, calling her “that horrible woman” and her only comeback was to tell him that Stephen is her favorite Baldwin brother.

I was afraid that they would write some really funny stuff for her and then she would seem human and hilarious, but that’s not what happened. Remember when Hillary Clinton was on SNL? It was good and funny and smart. And, of course, the writers wrote better for Clinton, but I think that Palin should’ve been savvy enough to realize that the writers would not do that for her. At every turn, I thought it looked like they were all laughing at her, not with her. And it made me feel weird, like, as a woman, which was confusing because I really, really abhor her as a VP candidate, so I would think I would have just laughed at her, but I didn’t. I don’t even know if there’s a word for how I felt. I thought I would be happy that she didn’t have any good lines, but it just made me go, “Holy cow, you really are that dumb.” And it made me sad-ish. And scared. What if we have a VP who is that dumb? That would be bad.

So I walked around with a furrowed brow all weekend wondering why I have any feeling other than, “Haha! You’re dumb,” and wondering why I would even hope that she would be show us a glimmer of intellect. I guess I’m just going to chalk it up to the fact that she’s a woman and when a woman with that much power looks bad, I worry that we all look bad. Way to go, Palin. You are a ridiculous embarrassment and now I’ll never be chosen as anybody’s VP candidate. You’re ruining it for everybody.

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What Happened to Me?

I loved that debate! I love it when the camera stays on McCain’s face when Obama’s talking and he makes all of his weird faces. It would be hard watching that as an undecided voter. In order to really focus on the issues, I would have to listen to it with no picture. Anyway…

Dawn asked me what happened to make me change from a conservative to a liberal and this article about William F. Buckley’s son, Christopher, and his endorsement of Barack Obama and subsequent resignation from the National Review has me thinking even more.

The short answer that I gave Dawn was something like, “I have higher self-esteem now,” and I’d really like to think it’s something deep like that, but, really, I think Bryan hit the nail on the head when I asked him what he thinks changed and he said, “Well, you’re old now.”

He’s right. It’s oldness. It manifests itself in a couple of different ways, but it’s oldness. I never really cared about politics before, but now I do because I’m old and I have old-people interests. Like politics. And when I started looking at the issues, as old people are wont to do, I became a liberal.

I used to just vote for the candidate that my dad and my pastor voted for. You know, because I have those issues. What if I died and God was all, “So. ‘Abby’ is it? Is that what you go by down there? Says here you voted for Kerry in ‘04, is that right? Even after you saw those unfortunate wind-surfing pictures? I’m sorry, but Jesus’ blood doesn’t cover that sin.” And I’d stammer and blush and cry and it would just be a terrible way to begin my afterlife. And don’t get me started about my dad. You can actually feel the heart attack coming when we talk politics, which I do not ever bring up with him.

Mostly, though, the oldness manifests itself in ways that have more to do with boring things like worrying about money thingies. We have more education, but less money than we did 8 years ago. And that shit just ain’t right.

And my views on God have changed, too. I think Jesus is a liberal. That thought used to be way in the back of my head, way back when I worked at the Christian bookstore and those WWJD bracelets were invented. Oh, you didn’t know I used to work at a Christian bookstore? Yes, I did. For years. In fact, I used to go to a Pentecostal Christian church. It was my innoculation against everything that went wrong in my parents’ lives. I was the perfect receptacle for the “God-shaped hole” speech. Except, pentecostalism is kind of weird never quite fit. A lot of pentecostals believe that if you don’t speak in tongues, God doesn’t hear your prayers. That never came from the pulpit (my pastor was amazing, exceptional even; he didn’t even have a pulpit because that’s how hip he was), but it did come from people in the church. That, and the whole what-sin-have-you-not-confessed-that-gave-your-baby-a-birth-defect issue. Anyway, I’ve never spoken in tongues and, in fact, I was always quite perplexed and distracted by it when it happened in my presence. It’s very distracting. Seriously, go youtube it and tell me you can get your prayer on with people doing that around you. Maybe it was just the devil distracting me. I don’t think so, though, because usually when the devil wants to distract me he uses p0rn. And booze.

I also went to a regular old kind of church. And that was ok for a while, but then we moved and, well, I don’t really like going to church all that much. It’s because of all of my filthy sin. Oh, and the people. I’m not very comfortable around church people. When I was a brand-new Christian, excited about this fancy easy-peasy protection against all of the evil in the world, I thought I would like Christian people, but that was because I didn’t know any. Here’s how naive I was: Shortly after hearing the “God-shaped hole” speech, I got a job at a Christian bookstore and expressed to my manager something along the lines of, “Oh my goodness, it must be so awesome working with Christians and…and…waiting on Christians, and well golly, it just must be a swell work environment.” I may not remember exactly what I said, but I’ll never forget the look on that manager’s face as he slowly put his cap on his pen, pushed his glasses up his nose, sighed, looked me in the eye and said, “Let me tell you something about Christians. They’re just people.” He shook his head slowly, rubbed his temples and said, “They’re all just human people.” And I thought, “Yeah, really swell human people!”

Anyway, I was a conservative and now I’m not. It’s because I’m old and because of cults. Or Jesus. Or the unchurched. Or the undead. Or the unpaid. I can’t remember where I was going with this, but I think I mean to say that people just change. And I have no pocket change. And now I’m voting for change. The end.

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I Spent Friday Pallin’ Around With Terrorists

Kidding! Obama is totally not a terrorist. For realz! And, well, I probably didn’t actually pal around with him anyway. But I did go to an Obama rally with AmazonMidwife and her kids. We volunteered and it was fun. Dawn watched my kids because she rocks and because the children have been to two rallies and worked at one Campaign for Change headquarters and they’ve, frankly, had enough. Lena said she had mixed feelings about missing the rally, but she really wanted to hang out with Noah. Terrorist.

I saw the anti-classy anti-choice abortion van drive around and around the rally. With a great big picture of an aborted fetus on it. That was gross. And not classy at all. And super gross. It made me go, “Huh. That’s gross. And manipulative.” And then I wondered why we don’t go around bombing abortion vans and anti-choice protestors. And then I remembered it’s because we know that we can look at that van and go, “Ew, gross,” and then we can choose to look away instead of throwing rocks at it. Because nobody is forcing us to look. See how awesome it is to have a choice? It, like, makes the hate go away. Anyway, proof I was there (not much proof, since my camera’s batteries died):

As usual, Obama was totally classy. You know what else is classy? This:

On Friday during a town hall-style meeting in Lakeville, Minn., a supporter told McCain that he feared what would happen if Obama were elected. McCain drew boos when he defended his rival as a “decent person and a person that you do not have to be scared of as president of the United States.”
In another exchange, a woman told McCain that she didn’t trust Obama because “he’s an Arab.” Shaking his head and taking the microphone from her, McCain replied: “No, ma’am. He’s a decent, family man, citizen, that I just happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues and that’s what this campaign is all about.”

Now if he could just put some ads on that have less to do with fear-mongering and more to do with those issues, he might still lose this race, but at least his credibility will remain intact.

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Drunk People are Funny

Oh, they’re not drunk? Well, then you all better get out there and vote cuz there’s some crazy misinformed bigots people out there fixin’ to pick our next president.

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