Pooping in the Dark
Let's take a break from the serious political discussion for a moment, for I have a tale to tell. And like all tales worth telling it takes place in the john.
Our bathrooms at work have timers on the lights. If no one has been in there for a while, the lights shut off. I know, very green of us. There also is a motion detector right by the door so when you swing it open, the lights pop on. Ain't technology grand?
Now, we have already discussed the benefits of a work poo, but there I am still a bit of hesitant doing anything other than tapping a kidney in a public rest room. And even then, I would rather see a man about a horse without an audience. So, whenever I sojourn to the bathroom, I open the door slowly to see if the lights are on or off. If the lights are off, not only is no one in there, but no one has been in there for quite some time. I don't know why this is better. It just is.
Now, I don't know what the time limit is set for. I have never had the lights go off on me and sometimes it takes a while for the train to leave the station if you know what I mean. And of course you do. I am nothing if not not subtle. Anyway, the time limit seems pretty reasonable.
So, today after enjoying ounces and ounces of cola goodness, mother nature called. I opened the door slowly. Ha-ha, the lights were off. I pushed the door open the rest of the way, the light came on and I smiled to myself. I would have no audience as I drained the main vein.
I rounded the corner and there they were. Two shoes and crumpled jeans visible under a stall door. And judging by the sound, my fellow employee was mid-wipe. Mid-wipe when the lights came back on. So, was he mid-wipe when they shut off causing him to wait for the next guy to enter before finishing, or was he doing his best to manage in the dark, much like the pioneers of old?
I wanted to ask him how long the lights had stayed on - seems this would be valuable information - but I didn't. I was too busy biting my lip to keep from laughing.
American Hope
As you know, November 4th is Election Day. Will you be voting that day, or will you find an excuse not to? The excuses are always plentiful. No Time. Polling location is inconvenient. Have to work. Don't want to stand in line with the kids. Blah, blah, blah.
One of the most common heard excuses is, "My vote doesn't count or won't matter in the big picture." It's a seemingly valid argument that holds no water and only serves as a lame attempt to cover the excuse giver's apathy. How many others will stay away on the 4th thinking the same thing? What changes are missed each election because thousands are thinking the same thing and staying home? If they were all to rise up together and vote, what power they would have.
Now, I can understand the apathy. I live in the reddest state in the union. When I enter that booth and vote for Obama, I know I will be in the minority and I am fairly certain that my state's electoral votes will go for McCain. But if I don't stand up and let my voice be heard, how can I ever hope for change?
Even when the right thing to do is painfully obvious, change in America can be slow. Read about the women who were arrested and jailed and beaten for the simple act of picketing the White House for the right to vote. Remember all that the African Americans went through from fighting to be considered men and citizens to literacy tests and grandfather clauses. These groups fought for years, suffering all types of abuses, many even died. And for what? For the right to be heard, for the right to put a check mark in a box, for the right to stand up and say this is what is important to me, this is what I believe America should be.
Change was a long time coming for these groups. But it came. Why? They did not offer excuses when they saw opportunities to stand up and fight. Sure the odds were against them. They could have just as easily told themselves that things were never going to change, no one was going to listen to them, so why bother. Those who thought that then were wrong. Those who think it now are wrong.
Voting is one of the many tools we can use to create change. Unless you stand up and fight for the issues you care about, the change you are seeking will never come. Sure, change may be slow, at times it may seem impossible, but the great American hope is that change is possible. In America we can always fight for what we think is right and we can always, always, always carry the hope that we will succeed in that fight.
So, this November 4th, remember those who died for the right that you might cast aside because of a line, or bad weather, or whatever. Be Heard. Even if you're the only blue in a sea of red, or the only red in a sea of blue. Be Heard. Battles are fought all the time, whether it be for President, or Prop 8, or giving more money to the zoo, or fighting for the right to vote. Whatever the cause, whatever the issue. Be heard. Fight. Never give up hope.
Vote.
Embarrassed Celebration
So, as some of you might recall, I finished school a while back. Or so I thought. After finishing the main classes for my degree, I found myself 6 credits short of graduation. I decided to take a CLEP test, passed it, and started to celebrate. I even ventured out and found a job in the industry my degree was in.
One problem, I had misread my transcripts and was, after the 6 credits earned, still 1.01 credits shy of my degree. 1.01. The .01 part of it still boggle my mind. They looked at my credits from BYU and said, we'll count X.99 of them. Where's the logic?
Needless to say, this new knowledge was really deflating. I still didn't have my degree. I had busted my butt for years and thought I had crossed the finish line only to find myself face down in the dust with the white line just an inch away.
What's the big deal, you ask? Take another class or another CLEP. Of course that was the answer and it was what I planned to do. But there was no rush, right? After all, I had landed a job in the IT industry. I got the job without the degree. Then I had the opportunity to do a few plays which was something I hadn't been able to do while in school. Well, long story short, a couple years went by and I still didn't have my degree.
Until today.
I spent the last little while studying for the American Government CLEP. Today, I took the test and passed it. I was a bit nervous going into it, but when I got my score I wanted to laugh and cry and shout all at once. While I am embarrassed it took me so long to do it, I am also overjoyed that I am finished.
I have my degree.
A Christmas Carol 2008
And now for some shameless self promotion. My son and I will be in A Christmas Carol at Hale Centre Theatre this year. We will in the Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday cast, so come on out and see us.
Put a fork in ‘em, they’re cursed.
I almost cried. Seriously, tears threatened to spring forth. Who could have thought that after one of their best seasons in my lifetime, winning their division and finishing with the best record in the National League, the Cubs dreams of ending their 100 year drought would come to crashing halt in the second inning of the the second game of the NLDS.
As I watched that horrendous second inning where the Cubs looked like little leaguers who couldn't field the ball to save their lives, the first thing I thought of was the curse. Then with each mistake and error, I was reminded of the curse.
I was screaming my guts out, pulling my hair out. I had told people I wasn't getting my hopes up. Heck, I had told myself I wasn't getting my hopes up. However, after that second inning I realized what a big, fat lie that was. I honestly thought this was the year.
There is a certain amount of poetry that runs through the history and numbers of baseball. Fans know this is true. It's in baseball more than any other sport. I don't know why, but it is. For the Cubs to win the World Series exactly 100 years after they won their last Series would have been the stuff great sports stories are made of. It would have been full of magic and poetry. It would have been, in a word, baseball. After the season the Cubs had, that mojo had to be working in their favor, right?
However, part of baseball's magic belongs to curses and superstitions. A few years ago, I never would have thought a goat would have more power than the Babe. Apparently it was true, and still is. And for one inning last night you could almost hear Billy Cianis and his pet goat laugh with delight.