BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

This election season has been trying. To be honest, it has just about done me in. Normally, I am somewhat like the character Chris from the old TV show, Northern Exposure. As anti-establishment as this character tended to be, he had a great respect for the process. For the whole idea of democracy, and voting. Exercising free will, free thought, free expression… Freedom.

Honestly, I still am like Chris in that regard. But, like I said, this has been a long, trying election season.

As it turned out, my preferred candidate didn’t get the nod in the primaries, so I was left with a field I didn’t particularly like. And, I’m not just talking about the two party system here, I’m talking about all of them…. Dems, Pubs, Constitution, Libertarian, Green, all of them…

There were things I liked about each candidate, but then there were things I absolutely couldn’t stand about each of them as well. This left me with a hard decision, and one that I was wholly unable to make until this morning, while standing in line at the polling place, and thoughts of freedom of choice bounced around inside my head…

Normally, my vote is played close to the vest. It is my vote, and no one else’s. That is why we have the secret ballot in this country. So, I generally don’t make my vote known to anyone, with the exception of family and a few close friends.

This year, I am breaking with that tradition.

Since I couldn’t see my way clear to cast my vote for any of the candidates listed on the ballot, I exercised my rights to use the write-in option. And, yes… I voted for EK.

When I told her this she thought I was kidding. Once I convinced her that I was deadly serious, she informed me she doesn’t want the job. In my mind, that makes her far more qualified than any of the folks clamoring for it…

More to come…

Murv

There are times when it seriously sucks to be the Dad.

I suppose I should back up just a bit and give you some background as to why I make that statement, because I suspect most of you know I am all about my kid. So, let me fill you in…

Some of you may or may not be aware that the animals in my novels – those being the two dogs and the three cats who share the abode with the main characters, Rowan and Felicity – are actually based on my own four-legged cohabitators. The dogs, as I have mentioned in the past, have since gone on to the other side, but they still live on in my books. So too, do the felines in many senses, as they are composites of the numerous cats we have rescued over the years. Emily – the cats in the novels are named Emily (Dickinson), Dickens (Charles), and Salinger (J.D.), go figure – is based on the real life felines, Data and Buffer, both calicos like their fictional composite. Data left us last year, peacefully, in her sleep. She was something on the order of a million years old… Well, around 18+ years to be a little more exact, but for a cat, that’s a fair piece of time. Buffer, however, was still around – until this weekend.

Buffer was only 14, but that is still a good lifetime for a feline. To be honest, where I come from, farm cats rarely made it past 5 or 6 years, but I digress as usual. The especially bad part about losing Buffer this weekend is that she went outside and got into an altercation with a vehicle.

The vehicle won.

EK and the Spawn were out shopping, which was fortunate, because I was the one who found her instead of them. As you can guess, when you are talking Feline vs. Auto, the results aren’t very pretty.

So, I found her… And, I got to be the one who cleaned up the remains, dug the hole, tried to convince my wife that the animal hadn’t suffered – though I really couldn’t know that for sure – and help console an 8 year old who misses her friend. Then, I got to toss and turn that night because the image of the aftermath played back for me each time I closed my eyes. And, you know, as it happens I miss the cat too. But, I have to be the strong one.

Hence, why it sometimes sucks to be the Dad, especially when a shovel an a shoebox are involved…

(sigh)

I suppose I should try to end this on a slightly cheerier note, so here goes…

Speaking of pets, I’m sure most everyone is aware of the latest Myspace rage, that being purchasing and selling your friends as “human pets”. Well, it seems I was purchased by an old friend, and she has since sold me… Since then I have been gifted, traded, and sold all over the place. But, just so all the bases are covered, I’ll mention here that if you purchase me, unlike Morrison, I am housebroken and fairly low maintenance.

BTW, I really like Pizza and beer, but I don’t do tricks. Well, I do, but that’s a whole ‘nother story…

More to come…

Murv