A PRIMARY PAIN IN THE.....

Election Day is here at last! Thank the political gods for small favors. Perhaps the telephone won't be ringing quite so often at inconvenient times--after today.  "Hello. Don't hang up!! My name is Joe Schmo and I'm running for....." Click.

I'm also getting weary of having my mailbox stuffed with slick campaign messages. The mail carriers must be having nightmares.  And it will be nice to have the local newspaper getting back to printing just news, although I'm sure the editor has made a windfall from all the paid political ads, which is nice. We have 16 people running for two county commission seats.  You figure up the math.

I suppose I'm one of the few people who actually reads these ads. Last week I about gagged on my breakfast when reading one in support of our state representative who is now running for state senator. His name shall go unwritten in this blog, but you all know who I mean. The ad was sort of like an open letter from, guess who, his dear wife and the mother of his 13 children and the grandmother to one grandchild who, she states, attends public school. The letter starts like this:

"My favorite way to describe (name I won't print) is to say that he is a lot like Jesus."  Oh, really. Is that so? Now, granted, she didn't follow up that little eye-opener with how well he walks on water, but she did let us  know that he's the only elected official in Kansas who "works tirelessly" at the capitol building in Topeka "till near midnight."  When she asks him if anyone else is there with him, "...His reply, 'Just the security guards and me.'" Oh, and by the way, did you know that she's been told by his peers, "If your husband would get to introduce ALL of the bills, we'd all understand them better...."  Jesus, (and I'm talking to the candidate here) give me a break.

To make me even more cynical, later on the same day when I was choking on my breakfast reading this crock, there was a knock on the door. And who was standing there with a clipboard and a stack of political flyers--but one of the 13 children of our lord and savior, er, I mean the dude (name I won't print) who is running for senate.  The poor kid was probably an 8th or 9th grader, except he's home-schooled so who knows, and he was practically shaking in his shoes.  

He said something like, "My father is running for state senate and I'd like to know if you're going to vote for him."  I could see names and addresses and little check boxes on the clipboard. Now, I wasn't about to make the kid feel lousy about his father, so I just took his flyer and told him I was undecided. I suspect he felt lousy enough just having to schlep door-to-door, all dressed up, on the hottest day of the year. I bid him a friendly goodbye and sent him on his way.

"Who was at the door?" Big Bore asked from the kitchen.

"The son of (name I won't print) asking us to vote for his dad," I yelled back.

Big Bore has no idea who this politician/religious icon is, but he grumbled, "He shouldn't be making his son do his own work."  

Then....another knock on the door. It was the kid again.

"I forgot to ask if I could put a campaign sign in your yard."

Now, there's already one sign in our yard...for a friend who is running for one of the aforementioned county commission seats...so I spit out a quick response. "Oh, I don't want more than one sign in my yard.  Thanks anyway."  End of discussion. Although as I watched him walk dejectedly off the porch, a little part of me wanted to invite him in for an icy lemonade and ask him how much fun he was having traipsing around in the heat with his flyers and clipboard asking strangers to vote for his dad. Poor kid.

So, anyway, that's why I'm celebrating today and heading down to Election Central pretty soon to cast my ballot.  That's also why I won't be voting for (name I won't print).