In which Primo calls me from a campaign event at the Rich Suburb Farmers Market and starts with, "Something awful happened" and I go straight to he hit someone with the car

Only it's not that at all.

He was not hit. He did not hit someone else. He did not get a $1,000 ticket. Nobody is hurt. No thing is hurt.

He spilled his coffee on his

1. contribution envelopes, the ones he had altered by hand to reflect new contribution disclosure rules
2. door literature
3. paperwork for the credit union
4. some Hershey's Kisses

which, I will admit, is a hassle, but nobody is dead. As long as nobody is dead or going to jail or it's not going to cost us hundreds or thousands of dollars to solve the problem (and even then, the problems that can be solved with money only are the best kind to have - I would rather need a new roof than be diagnosed with cancer, for instance), we are fine.

But Primo is all stressed because he is in the middle of the campaign and Ted is looming and you know, stuff.

And he had taken his old car - a 50 year old Corvair - that he drives only in dry, clear weather because it's not safe otherwise. The Corvair does not have a place to put coffee, so he had put his coffee go-cup in the bag with all his campaign materials.

He has done this many, many times and nothing bad has ever happened, but this time, the cup leaked and all the coffee spilled onto campaign papers.

As he was in the old car that is almost never driven and that I never drive, he had no emergency supplies in the trunk. I keep rags and blankets and water and paper towels in the regular car, but have never stocked the Corvair because it has never occurred to me.

He called from the farmers market, panicked because everything was soaked.

I had been minding my own business in the kitchen, enjoying my coffee and the quiet.

But I put together a bag of rags and paper towels and water and drove out to the Rich Suburb Farmers Market and find him and we clean off the pins that say "Vote for Primo" and the pens and separate the usable door literature and the cards from what has to be thrown away and lay all the credit union papers on a towel in the back seat and in the middle, we fight because that is how we deal with stress. Primo gets all "Wooooo!" and then he snaps at me, which ticks me off because I am not the one who caused the problem so I get pissy back which makes him pissy and so it goes.

"I have to take time to grieve and panic and process this!" he says.

"Can't you be solving the problem at the same time?" I ask.

"I don't know!"

Which is why my beloved, who can repair a car and a furnace and a computer and pretty much anything would make a lousy EMT, but that's OK because he is not interested in being any kind of first responder.

I? I would be an excellent first responder except for the blood part. I am great in a crisis because I get all cold and logical and start telling people what to do, which is always so, so obvious, but I tend to pass out at the sight of blood, at least I pass out when I see my own blood, so I think that perhaps, EMT is also not an option for me.

But we got it all cleaned up and then he was all apologetic because he knows how he gets when Something Bad Happens By Surprise and I know how he is, too, and I will use this as leverage to ask him to go to the Vietnamese store to get persimmons for me, so it's all good.

In which Primo points out that Bill Clinton makes long speeches so it's OK

Me: Wow. This defendant will not shut up! Doesn't he understand you don't argue with the person who has the power to put you in jail?

Primo: I talk too much.

Me: Yes you do.

Primo: But people like to hear politicians speak.

Me: No, they don't.

Primo: Yes they do.

Me: Nobody wants to hear a long speech about policy!

Primo: Polka Dots do.

Me: No. Even Polka Dots don't. Nobody wants to be trapped listening to a politician talk about policy. Nobody.

In which I go to a fundraiser for Primo and then I watch the episode of "Scandal" where Olivia breaks up with Fitz and leaves the White House and I totally get it, even though I have had only a tiny, tiny taste of how awful it is to be The Candidate's Wife

We got to the fundraiser at 5:30 or so. It was supposed to go from 5:30 to 7:30. Primo asked me to stay at least to hear him speak, which he said would be about 6:15 or 6:30. I pointed out that speaking is not necessary probably - that nobody wants to hear a speech, but he said that people expect this kind of thing.

I wouldn't know. I try to stay away from political events.

We get there and it's freezing cold in the house because the hostess has the windows open and the ceiling fans going. This is October. We are in the Cold Part of the United States.

But - not my house, so not my rules.

I had eaten before we left because you can never be sure about the food at these things. Not that I judge any  more - when we had a fundraiser at our house, I cooked for days. The food was, indeed, fabulous, but what we discovered was that we had spent a lot of money on food and wine to raise not as much money as the food and wine cost.

So now I don't judge about the fruit and cheese tray from Sam's, but I also don't want to eat it. I eat in advance.

But this hostess was lovely. It was her first fundraiser so she didn't know, either, so she made meatballs and crab dip and artichoke dip and black bean salsa and it was all fabulous.

Primo gave a speech and he talked and talked and talked, blesshisheart, going into detailed policy discussions that I don't think anyone cared about, at least not while they were standing in a living room wishing they could get another glass of wine. The thing with Primo's speeches is they have gotten to be really good at the beginning and he just doesn't stop soon enough. However, people are gracious and they are so excited that he is running that they forgive him.

I had hoped to be out of there by 6:45 but people kept wanting to talk to me and they were nice, lovely people and you can't just blow off voters because they are voters and unfortunately, people seem to care about the candidate's wife, although I don't think they should, as they are not voting for the spouse, they are voting for the candidate.

By 8:00, it was just Primo, the hostess, another woman who is very active in local politics, and me. The mother of the active woman had just died and we were expressing our condolences and that was not a good time to walk out.

"Sorry to hear that your mom just died. Bye now!"

No. That does not work at all.

I finally started saying to Primo, "It's a work night! We need to go!" but the hostess was still all excited about hosting a successful event and she wanted us to take leftovers with us and she was just so, so nice.

But we didn't get home until 9. And then tonight, I watched that episode where Olivia is depressed because she is being asked for cookie recipes and is decorating the White House for Christmas and choosing table settings and you can see that she looks like a caged animal, and I thought, Yes. Yes. For just a few hours, my life was all about Primo, but even as much as I love him, that's not how I want to spend my time. If someone wants that, it's fine - it's her choice. But it is not my choice. America, quit asking the First Lady about her damn cookies.

In which Primo's lateness and procrastination is stressing me out and I am resorting to eating chocolate souffle, which is not really a sacrifice, and taking vicodin

(which is really for a backache, but maybe I have the backache because of Primo).

A woman in our neighborhood is hosting a fundraiser for Primo. He needs to be there at 5:00.

It is 4:45.

He has not taken a shower yet.

He stayed up all night.

All night, as in, when I got up at 6 a.m., he was still upstairs in his office. He didn't go to bed until noon.

It is now, as I mentioned 4:45.

He has not taken a shower.

He just came downstairs and informed me that she needs a package of cream cheese, which we have, and that he doesn't have to be there until 5:15. The event officially starts at 5:30.

I guess so much for my plan to watch a few more episodes of season 5 of Scandal and then walk to the event. I might as well ride with him.

"I probably will speak around 6:15 or 6:30," he says.

I groan and roll my eyes.

"You'll stay for at least an hour, won't you?" he asks.

I exhale.

I. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. The. Wife.

I do not want to attend political fundraisers, period. For anyone. For anyone! This is going to be miserable.

And - it is now 4:49 and he still has not taken a shower.

The post about chronic lateness on Ask A Manager (a fabulous blog you should be reading) is so timely.

In which a political blogger wants to call Primo a "sacrificial lamb"

But fortunately, he sends the story to Primo before running it so Primo can object.

Hence the term "blogger" instead of "reporter."

Not that there is anything wrong with that.

I am a blogger. I have a point of view. I do not try to hide it. OK, I try to hide my POV about politics, but that's because the story here is not politics. It is my husband's weird family and it is also a little bit about politics, but about the politics of politics.

But my POV about other things?

You guys know where I stand.

I am anti mean parents. I am anti jerk half brothers. I am pro nice, decent husbands. I am not so pro nice, decent husbands running for office - and not just because I don't agree with them on the issues - but because it is a huge hardship and we don't even have kids.

Example of hardship. Well, not hardship. Drama. Drama that we would not face if we were rich and had People.

(But - I want there to be politicians like Primo who understand what non-rich, ordinary people face.

Which takes me to an observation that my dad made when he was dying and that my uncle, who was just diagnosed with stage 3 multiple myeloma, also made, which is, "Why shouldn't this happen to me? What makes me so special that I should not have to suffer?"

Let me put that in context. If I want there to be decent ordinary people in office, I can't expect only other people to suck it up and make the sacrifice. No, I don't think of it as Giving Back, but you guys, it is a huge pain in the neck to run for office and it costs money, even if you don't spend a lot on your campaign, because if you are not working, it is costing you money.

My uncle was just diagnosed a few weeks ago. He is the nicest guy. There are so many other people - mean, nasty people - who should have cancer before him but he got it and he did not. My mom saw him and he told her, "I've had a great life. I have a great family. I've gotten to do what I wanted. I have not been cheated if this is it."

He is only 65. That is kind of being cheated, but then, my uncle - my family - is not a whiner. My family is not whiners. (Except me.)(I think I have lost track of my parentheses.)

Anyhow.)

Where was I? Oh. The Drama - and this isn't even a big deal, but it's tons of little things like this that rich politicians have People to deal with but with us, they are the things that keep Primo up until 3 a.m. (Although if he wouldn't procrastinate all day, they would keep him up only until 10 p.m., probably.)

He discovered that someone from the online campaign contribution portal he uses - oh heck, it's Act Blue - had deleted part of the site.

Which meant that anyone who had wanted to donate to his campaign could not. And all the links that Primo set up for the fundraiser a neighbor is hosting tomorrow night were not good.

He finally reached someone at about 4:30 our time and the guy told him he could take care of it in the morning - that he was going home.

Which - is not the right answer for a campaign contribution website when the election is less than a month away.

Primo was very, very stressed. Nobody had notified him that they were deleting part of the site. They take four percent of all the contributions but - they deleted part of the site without telling him. And then wanted to wait another 16 hours before repairing the problem.

1. If we had People, we have a social media person and a finance person and all kinds of Persons and all this stuff would have been set up properly and problems would have been nipped in the butt and

2. If we had People, Primo could have delegated the resolution of this issue to a People instead of spending 90 minutes on it himself.

But  - that's not even what I started writing about. This blogger - and there is nothing wrong with being a blogger* - sent Primo the outline of a story he is writing about the election.

He wrote,

He knows nothing about local issues. How he’s gotten away with this in City Y is hard to figure since back in the capitol you can find a number of Stripes unhappy with his tampering in City X politics.

His opponent, Primo, is an experienced sacrificial lamb for the Polka Dot Party, a good speaker and capable political operator living in what has long been a terrible district to be a Polka Dot. But after the national showdown for the Stripes, along with the enemies [Primo's opponent] has created, [the opponent] has a target on his back. A wave could drown him. 

Primo is not happy about the term "sacrificial lamb," and I agree. There is an implication that Primo's running, even if he does not win, serves a higher purpose and that is simply not true. The only time running matters is if you win. Period.

Besides, this year is so bizarre that Primo could actually win. I hope he does. Good night, lovies.

* Sly and Doris had reported to Primo that they watched the movie Julie and Julia and not to waste our time because it was about, they sniffed, a blogger.