Anomalies Come in Threes
It was that darned Michael Moore-- he wrote to me and RW yesterday and told us we're in a battleground state and that the election is more important than our laundry. And like brainless robots, we believed him! We read his e-mail, turned to each other, and said "Let's just call the number." Actually, I think I said it. It's been about a decade since I volunteered for anything more exciting than the synagogue childcare co-op, but such is the power of one well-written, well-timed piece of political spam.
So, we called the number and the perky MoveOn person invited us to this meeting tonight. We brought Mermaid Girl because what else were we going to do with her? RW skipped yoga. We even paid for parking. Mermaid Girl was all excited about the prospect of a big meeting to get rid of George Bush, since she knows a cool song on the topic, but once we were there she became extremely wiggly and floppy and goofy and climbed all over us until, in desperation, I dug a stray American Girl catalog out of my bag and flung it at her. She was immediately mesmerized and stayed glued to it for the rest of the meeting.
We had been hiding the very existence of the whole American Girl Doll phenomenon. She didn't even know there was such a thing.
If I end up buying her a hundred-dollar historical doll, with even more expensive furniture and accessories, I am blaming George Bush. (Note to stray BlogExplosion surfers: this is a joke! Joke! Not like we have $100 for a doll, anyway.)
We barely escaped signing up as precinct leaders, which would have been about a 25-hour time commitment, plus requiring one of us to be at the polls from 6 AM to 8 PM on Tuesday. As it is, we're signed up as Active Team Members or something fancy-schmancy like that. I may end up taking part of Tuesday off after all, as well as going door to door and attending some big rally this weekend (oy-- it's been so long since I thought rallies were fun).One woman from near our neighborhood said she could be a precinct leader except that she has a two-month-old baby, and we told her we'd help her out, so now I really feel committed.
Mermaid Girl was two months old four years ago. I remember being home with her--I had Tuesday afternoons off back then so RW could teach a class--and listening to the reports on NPR and bouncing her on my lap, chanting "Gore won Florida! Gore won Florida!" Because we all knew Florida was the key.
All of which is to say that I may be busy with all this activism and not writing much for the next week.
See you on the other side.