Robert A. Mills, click
here to update your pages on AuthorsDen.
Blogs by Robert A. Mills
POLL 11/10/2012 6:43:06 AM
I decided to vote in the Presidential Election after all. It is not that I was ever afraid that Barack Obama would lose, nor did I think he was not entitled to a 2nd term — it was, more to the point, that I did not think I should cast a vote in opposition. It might be construed as a vote of acceptance that the GOP slate was not ludicrous and of uncertain merit.
What was I unsure of? Mainly, I think, it had to do with my inherent uncertainty about the future of the USA under the preposterous “leadership” of a Republican administration.
I was born during the Roosevelt Administration, a time when the entire nation needed an acute remedy for its many ills, and I have voted in every election since Eisenhower vs. Stevenson (1950). I was successful four previous times, which is not bad when you consider some of my peers struck out with, at best, a .200 average. I am now enough ahead of the game to be benched if such is my lot and never really feel the agony of defeat.
Last winter I said my vote would depend on President Obama’s State of the Union address, and suffice it to say he delivered a smashing triple (not a home run, but a good, solid triple). Had the Republican Party reacted properly and not tried to bunt in a winning run by offering the worst possible slate of human beings ever expressing a desire to occupy Congress or the White House, I might have had to come off the bench and hit a sacrifice fly ball for the incumbent.
But, thanks be to God, I was almost spared the necessity. The cretins who were finally given the GOP nod (big surprise!) were such pitiful candidates I found myself hard pressed to dignify their choice by casting even an opposing vote.
So, on Tuesday, I went dutifully go to the polls and immediately had second thoughts. My ballot was initially to be limited to just the subsidiary choices, and for them I hoped for the best. Having little concern for them and knowing little about them, my plan was to alternate parties right down the list, giving everyone a fair shot. As stated before, to the spoiled go the victories.
The nice thing about it was, I would not have to tune in to see who the winners were. What did it matter? I could watch JEOPARDY and whatever else we had on TiVo and go to bed assured that my vote truly counted, and my batting average was as high as it would ever be.
But I do not know for sure if Primary Lateral Sclerosis has affected my speech or my brain all that much, or if I have just become more mellow in my dotage, but last summer our friend in Canada called to inquire what I thought of Mitt Romney’s acceptance speech at the GOP nominating convention.
“Not much,” I told her. “His tirade was so full of hyperbole and non-facts that any high school kid could see we were being sold a bill of goods. It was nothing more than gross propaganda. I do not think his speech writers did their homework.”
She said, “Clint Eastwood, of all people, made a complete fool of himself.”
I laughed at that, and that may have been the precise moment I got intp trouble. I tried to say Eastwood was a big horse’s ass, but I got only as far as “big.” The word became unpronounceable. I stumbled over the “b” to the point where I stuttered it twenty times before it came out. (Anything Colin Firth can do, I can do better.)
“He made a b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-big horse’s ass out of himself!” I said.
Debi, the Canuck, laughed with me. “Yes, he did,” she agreed. “And he is supposed to be an actor!”
“Well, I’m sorry to be such a flannel mouth. I seem to have trouble getting words out. . . Clint should never have been there in the first place. Totally inexcusable. He was out of his element.”
It is extremely embarrassing when I cannot say precisely what I want, and I do not know whether to blame the PLS or not. The neurologist said the symptoms, though never fatal, were progressive and permanent. There is at the present time no cure or treatment.
“But there is hope,” he said, hopefully. “Research is being done as we speak that may someday lead to a remedy. Who knows? You are only 81. You may get lucky. After all, it is PLS — not ALS. Count your blessings.”
I guess he is right. All things considered, I can overlook (as Debi did) my inability to say something as simple as “big” when the alternative is so dismal. All things considered, PLS is not so bad, especially when you think what it could be.
All things considered, though, I would rather not have to consider anything at all. I did not vote for Romney/Rand (God forbid!), and I have explained my reasons why not in candid terms — mainly, I thought, that Mr. Obama did not need me to guarantee his re-election.
He needed you, however, and all the party faithful. In the end, he got me, too. He needed every red-blooded American if only to reflect on the miserable deportment of those GOP wannabees — what they said and why they said it.
As Debi agreed, there was just enough kool-aid to go around last August in Tampa.
I think the right man won. No matter what. And there are already many signs of foreboding, like the stock market, the financial “cliff” and the makeup of the House of Representatives. Not to mention the total disintegration of the Republican Party.
But . . . God bless Americans, and God bless the United States.