Saturday, November 3, 2012

please god let it be over

Just in case you are hanging out on your couch wondering where your favorite presidential candidate is today think no more. I can tell you with absolute certainty they are both in my small Iowa town dragging their tired ass menageries behind them. Mitt Romney touched down in our city airport at noon today and no one in this household gives a hoot and Obama is currently in a small park about an hour's walk from my place.  Iowa is one of those politically infuriating battleground states and there are loads of undecided independent people who could be persuaded at the last minute and the candidates know this. We are stubborn procrastinating farmers holding our ballots tightly in dirt-encrusted hands hoping the last light will reveal the true prophet.

 I decide to take that hour walk and check out the scene. I know I am getting close when ten-foot chain-link fences keep butting up in front of me not allowing further passage.
There is John Deere equipment blocking alleys because no one in Iowa messes with a Deere and how comforting it is knowing those slick secret service guys borrowed the machines from our JD plant just north of town.

And here they are, the guys and it's a strange way to earn a salary, milling around casting fierce looks at the crowd and wearing curly pig tail wires left over from the Nixon administration and yes, that is a sniper squatting on top of the post office. I'll  be buying those stamps later.

I visit my aunt who lives in a senior citizen apartment building kitty corner from the park and the residents were instructed to keep their shades drawn. Who knows what fury a disgruntled octogenarian could release when faced with the blaring ineffectiveness of the current Medicare laws. Those quad canes can become weaponry in the wink of a cataract-clouded eye.

Big Dave shoves this sheet in front of me last night and I remind him it is no guarantee of admission to this president-starring event. Anyone who logs onto this website can get the precious page but the show will be a first come situation. My husband has the patience of a two-year-old waiting for a popsicle so I know he'll never get to see our current hero. We'll just go and drink beer and eat greasy fries someplace and that'll be fine enough for a Saturday night.

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