Calling on The Guv

It doesn't matter WHY I decided to call the Governor's office. Suffice it to say, I just did.

I have long been interested in politics and current events - and try to keep up to speed on what is going on, particularly during this state's rather short legislative session.

I frequently gripe to myself. I occasionally send an e-mail to my state representative or state senator about something. I always fill out the surveys they send out in the waning days of the year. I rarely say anything about it to anyone else, or join a "campaign" against or for something. As it turns out, while I'm passionately political, when it comes right down to it, my interpretation of things is just that - my interpretation.

However, finally, after 4+ years in The Frontier, something finally irritated me enough last week to sign a petition.

Around the same time, an article came out in the local news about how the governor proudly stated that he would not be swayed by e-mail or social media campaigns and would govern "in the best interest of the state."

I don't pretend to be smarter than the governor. I don't know him well enough to make that assertion. I don't pretend to know, on a grand scale, what IS best for the state. What I do know, however, is that I belong to both a state and a nation governed by a REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY. That means I vote for you, you take the input of your constituency into consideration, and you vote for legislation. It does NOT mean that I vote for you and you plug your ears and close your eyes and sing "nah nah nah, I can't HEAR you!"

A representative democracy works fine as long as you don't have state legislatures who fail you and come up with bills that are about 180 degrees from the actual things needing work (because they score re-election points)- and also about 180 degrees from what you would do if anyone cared what your opinion is (trust me, they don't). Then, it doesn't feel so representative.

It feels EVEN LESS representative when an elected official essentially nullifies the valid, articulated positions of tens of thousands of people because he can't be bothered with opinions when he's trying to govern, "in the best interest of the state."

I was irritated. I don't have time to make calls to some legislative aide who answers a thousand phone calls a day. Still, I wanted to voice my opinion - be counted among the ranks. So, amidst the 4.5 hours I've already spent on the phone today in meetings, I called him.

Or, I called his office, rather. The Frontier may be in a rather unpopulated state, but there are still enough people that one does not actually speak with the governor unless one is a lobbyist with deep pockets. Neither of which describes me.

I'm not sure what I expected - I don't make a habit of calling the governor's office on a regular basis (as evidenced by the fact that I am not chained to a bed in a psychiatric facility) - but I certainly didn't expect the abrupt response to my inquiry. I got a few words out - and was told, "Thank you. I'll pass your concern along."

*Crickets*

No one asking for my name, precinct or anything. No one wanting any information to certify that I'm not some looney bin escapee or paranoid conspiracy theorist. Even if they wrote it on an air post-it and rolled their eyes, I would want someone to at least ASK the right questions.

But no - immediately after being assured the governor would take my opinion into consideration (as if!) I was disconnected. Really? So the governor doesn't want to hear about anything via e-mail or social media or web forms - or, apparently, any other way, since I'm pretty sure that camping out at his office would be met with even less enthusiasm than taking the time to phone his office.

I still believe in democracy. However, there may be another election in my future where only those who are not currently serving in an elected position get my vote.

I'm only one of 3 million people in this state. But I AM one. The least you can do is make me THINK you're reading that e-mail or petition or receiving a note that says "the crazy lady from The Frontier called - she'd like a word."

Evolution

I have never dreaded election day more than I do this year.

Normally, come October, I have a pretty good idea of who I am voting for, and why. This year? Well, I've found myself saying a lot, "I wish all ballots had the Nevada 'None of the Above' option."

None of the Above would get my votes - at least in the "big" races. There is not a single person running for governor, senate or house that I like. There are a few local candidates I like, unfortunately, I didn't mind the people they are replacing or running against, so it will do little to lessen my absolutely amazement and frustration with the 2011 legislative session.

I could not vote. Then I wouldn't be forced to (again) choose the lesser of two (or a dozen) evils. However, I firmly believe that it then prevents me from getting to complain about the direction things take for the next two years - "if you don't vote, don't complain," was a frequent refrain in my household growing up.

I no longer identify with a political party - having dabbled in both (gasp) sides for over a decade. None of the philosophies of the minor parties jive with me enough to adopt their platform either. I never vote a straight-party ticket. I'm not a "big ticket issues" only voter, and I'm tired of everything being run by old white men. Certainly there are other (or maybe any) people who are respectable, competent, honest and talented that could run (and win) in an election - who have new thoughts, ideas, perspectives and a commitment to something other than being re-elected every couple of years.

It's probably not much different than anyone else in the U.S., except I've long been politically active in some way, shape or form - even before I was old enough to vote. For years, it was exciting, thrilling, and I had the ideological hope of someone who refuses to see anything but what could be. For years I love politics - loved the process, the issues, the ideological exchange.

And now all I see is what is - an unread voter education booklet on my dining room table, an empty sample ballot and a confused thirtysomething who is pretty certain she doesn't agree with most of the prominent rhetoric from either side, and is worried we're too wrapped up in politics and 30-second soundbites that rarely pass objective fact-checking, to focus on fixing things for the greater good.

It is terrible, but the motivating factor in getting me out to the polls in two weeks?
Woodstock loves to see the fire trucks - and I vote at a fire station.

*Sigh*

I am Not Making Political Statements

If one more person tries to make my mundane, everyday lifestyle choices into a political debate or tries to indicate they are a political stance, I might just stop biting my tongue.

I'm trying to figure out how what I eat, where I shop and whether or not I recycle is a political statement, and even if it was, why it's okay to make loud remarks about it to someone you don't know even casually.

I mean, really.

To be truthful, while my life used to revolve a lot around politics, most of my politics now involves campaigns to get Woodstock to use the potty or eat something green or to get Pebbles to realize that blowing raspberries at 3 in the morning was only cute the first 1,476 times she did it.

Yet even at the height of my political awareness, none of it had anything to do with politics, politicians or party affiliation (or not - since I haven't been officially registered with a party in 10+ years).

Yes, I have opinions, but no I am not subliminally declaring them by what is, or is not, in my grocery cart.

Rant over. I feel much better now.

Another One Bites the Dust

The first order of business would be to find out what marketing genius thought that using the lazy, internal shorthand "WaMu" to replace a perfectly respectable sounding "Washington Mutual" was a good idea.

"WaMu" conjures up visions of hip hop, text messaging and killer whales. Which is exactly what a financial institution wants its customers to think of when they decide whether or not to place my hard-earned cash in a bank or under their mattresses ... if they want to ensure mattresses regain favored status as savings accounts.

(Sidenote: It is just for that reason I would never bank with WaMu - I want my money in a respectable insitution with an equally respectable name, complete with a legion of bankers wearing charcoal suits, white shirts and sensible 2" pumps or maroon ties, thankyouverymuch.)

Now, apparently, it doesn't matter.

Last night, the Feds stepped in, stripped them of their assets, their debts and the ridiculous sounding name and sold them off to JP Morgan Chase - which conjures up images of Brownstones, the Upper East Side and, well, J.P. Morgan. Tipping the favor back toward banks vs. mattresses as the best places to store money.

The problem is, it gives one more reason for the frantic pompous political windbags to scurry around Washington in a distracted frenzy, yelling "fire! fire! fire," trying to figure what side is most likely to win, so they can stand there. It's an election year, after all. The whole thing is a bit like musical chairs for old white guys.

Meanwhile, the little guys are scurrying around like ants at a picnic - gathering the last crumbs in hopes that they will be enough to stave off the famine when powers that be ride gleefully off into the sunset, somewhere in the vicinity of an offshore bank account where the three martini lunches come with little paper umbrellas.

A Little More West Wing, Anyone?

West Wing was one of my all-time favorite shows - loved the writing (most of the time), the characters (some more than others) and the premise.

So it was with delight that I read Maureen Dowd's op-ed column in the New York Times this weekend - an encounter with President Bartlett and Senator Obama, penned by Aaron Sorkin.

It made me miss West Wing, and it made me wonder what Sorkin would do with the show if it was going on in the midst of this all-jumbled-up election season.

Is it sad I like fictional politics more than real politics these days?