Thursday, June 13, 2013

In which politics rears its ugly head again

So I thought that once the election was over and Primo went back to work and I worked and we had no more alimony payments to Imelda that our life would return to normal and I would not have to think about politics ever again.

I was so wrong.

Primo still spends his free time going to meetings with His People.

I do not join him.

This is not how I want to spend my free time.

I have already saved the world. I am done.

Primo claims that I joined the Peace Corps for adventure, not to save the world.

Tomato, tomahto.

My key learning from my two years in the Corps is that the world? It does not want to be saved.

Or, at least, it does not want to be saved by the nice white lady from the US. People want to save themselves. They don't need do-gooders meddling in their affairs.

Primo has not had that experience and he is in the full clutches of a mid-life existential crisis.

Plus his mom and dad are driving him crazy.

So he still wants to be involved politically. Only now that he lost the election, he will have to be involved in another way.

Which is fine with me, but he would like this involvement to be full time.

As in, he would quit his job.

The very idea of which makes me sick to my stomach.

Once he quits that job, there is no going back. I don't know if I can get back to the salary I was making a few years ago. My salary now is not enough to sustain us. Well, it is enough to sustain us, but it is not enough for us to save for retirement or buy a new furnace (which we need) or put a new roof on the house (which I hope we don't need but it's coming).

He has promised he will not quit without discussing it with me first, but now he is discussing it every day.

Which again, makes me sick to my stomach. I just want a year of throwing some money in the bank.

I would also like a year without politics.

That, too, is not to be.

I came home from work a few weeks ago to find a political sign in the yard.

Lordhavemercy are we not done with elections in this state?

Primo decided to support a certain candidate in the judicial primary.

Are there any elections people care about less than local judicial races?

Maybe dogcatcher.

Anyhow, Primo is supporting this guy.

And he wants to have a fundraiser. At our house.

I shook my head. "No, no, no, no. No."

"But it would help me get some visibility," he protested.

I shook my head even more strongly. "No!"

"Please," he pleaded. "This will help me."

"Why?" I asked. "Why does it have to be here? Why?"

"I need to network," he said. "This will get my name out and it will help the candidate."

Like I care about helping the candidate.

"I don't want to!"

"But wasn't the fundraiser we had for my campaign fun? That was probably the only fun thing about my campaign. It was the only relaxed evening we had."

Note that it was fun and relaxing for Primo. I did all the cooking and the cleaning and the pre- and post-work.

"Fine," I said. "Go ahead. But leave me out of it. You have to clean the living room and the bathroom and you have to do all the setup and you have to do all the cooking. I am not doing this. I've done it already. That was our deal. I worked on your campaign but you promised I would not have to ever talk about politics again and I include putting together a party for someone else as 'talking about politics.'"

"I'll do the cleaning," he said, "and I'll just get volunteers to bring food. But -" He paused.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

"Could you -?"

"Just say it!"

"Would you maybe make that Memphis Junior League onion dip? That's so good."

"Maybe. If you're nice to me. And don't try to start any political conversations."

I hate politics. I hate it. I wish all politicians and their minions would drop dead.