So not only does Doris want to sue the hospital for her pain and suffering, Sly wants to throw in - this will make you gag - loss of consortium.
"Just how much consortium does an 80 year old man have?" I asked Primo. I snorted. "What's that loss worth - a dollar?"
Primo sighed. "My dad wanted to tell me all about it. His son. He wants to talk to his son about that."
"No boundaries," I said as I rolled my eyes.
"He probably has more consortium than you and I do."
"Yeah, well it's easy to have time and energy for consortium when you are retired and don't do anything all day but sit on your butt."
"He wants more than he gets," Primo said.
"How much does your mom want?" I asked.
Primo sighed. "Not as much as he does. Probably not any."
"Your mom is probably thinking that the only good thing about her broken wrist is that it is getting her out of consortium."
Primo laughed. "You're probably right.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Thursday, May 9, 2013
In which Doris contemplates suing the hospital
Did I tell you guys that Doris fell while she was visiting Sly at the hospital and broke her wrist? I can't remember. Well, she did. I feel bad for her because she is in pain all the time. I don't wish pain on her. I just wish niceness. This situation is not what I want with my in-laws. What I want are nice, loving, welcoming in-laws whom I would like to spend time with. I have liked the families of almost every other boyfriend I have had. They've liked me. Why couldn't I get nice in-laws?
But I didn't. You get what you get and you make the best of it.
The best of it is that I just don't spend time with them. I don't need to be around toxic people. I wish Primo would divorce himself from them, but it's more complicated for him. They are his parents and he feels sorry for Doris, whom Sly abuses verbally. I don't think Primo will lift a finger for his dad once Doris is dead.
So Doris fell and she and Sly think it's the hospital's fault because she says she tripped on tubing by Sly's bed.
That may be the case, but I have spent plenty of time next to a sick person in a hospital bed with lines going everywhere and I never tripped.
My mom never tripped. My brother never tripped. My 90something grandmothers never tripped. My sister, who is a neo-natal nurse practitioner and who works in a hospital, has never tripped.
The key difference between my family and Doris is we are not drunks.
Doris wrote to Primo,
Dear Primo,
But I didn't. You get what you get and you make the best of it.
The best of it is that I just don't spend time with them. I don't need to be around toxic people. I wish Primo would divorce himself from them, but it's more complicated for him. They are his parents and he feels sorry for Doris, whom Sly abuses verbally. I don't think Primo will lift a finger for his dad once Doris is dead.
So Doris fell and she and Sly think it's the hospital's fault because she says she tripped on tubing by Sly's bed.
That may be the case, but I have spent plenty of time next to a sick person in a hospital bed with lines going everywhere and I never tripped.
My mom never tripped. My brother never tripped. My 90something grandmothers never tripped. My sister, who is a neo-natal nurse practitioner and who works in a hospital, has never tripped.
The key difference between my family and Doris is we are not drunks.
Doris wrote to Primo,
Dear Primo,
Dad is taking a short nap because he has been very busy today. I am still unable to provide much/any help. The orthopaedic surgeon's PA told him that I should pursue the likelihood that I may have a compression fracture of a spinal vertebra that would cause my prolonged lower rib cage pain. It could be diagnosed by a CTScan.
Ted's closest friend is a high-powered successful attorney who deals exclusively with law suits related to negligence by hospitals, insurers, doctors, etc. He is coming here tomorrow to assess whether or not I have a "case" about the hose I tripped over in the hospital while visiting your father.
That fall has triggered 3 and 1/2 months of pain and suffering with questionable treatment pursuant to the fall. The extent of my misery is hard to measure. I don't think I will ever recover enough to lead a "normal" life. We trust the lawyer because of everything we know about him and his impeccable credentials. He offered to assist us in evaluating the hospital's role following my fall.
The national and world news remain disheartening across the board. Obama's outreach for major corporate donations to his Second Inaugural is totally disgusting.
Love,
Ma
I feel bad for Doris. I do, really. She is in pain and she lives with someone who is mean to her all the time and she has nowhere to go, unless she were to live with us, which would be very, very difficult. If Sly were actually beating her, we wouldn't have a choice. We would have to take her in.
But I just can't stomach the idea of letting her move in with us to get away from Sly, although I can understand why she would want to. He's mean enough he would cut her off financially. She's never handled the money. She doesn't know any of it. It would be a mess.
No wonder she drinks herself into a stupor every day. It's the only way to escape.
But she drinks. And she takes narcotics for pain. Which is fine with me. I think doctors should prescribe whatever it takes to get rid of pain. The people who want to limit access to narcotics are, I am guessing, people who have never had a bad headache for three straight days. Or back pain. Or any kind of pain that can't be banished with an aspirin.
So what if someone in pain becomes an addict? What's worse? Constant pain that ruins your life - and it does - when you are in pain, you cannot think about anything else, or addiction? At least with the addiction you are not in pain.
But I would not want to open myself to the scrutiny that would arise should I sue a hospital. Especially if I were probably the one at fault.
1. Doris has fallen many times in her own house.
2. Doris drinks heavily.
3. Doris takes narcotics.
You know the hospital's lawyers will subpoena all of Doris' medical records, which will show some of her falls. (She has broken her ribs a few times.) The records will show her narcotics. The records will not show her alcohol consumption, but a quick visit to Sly and Doris' house will reveal the huge recycling bin of empty bourbon bottles.
This is not a fight I would want to take on.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
In which Sly and Doris complain about how I addressed a thank-you note I sent to them
Yes. You read that properly. Sly and Doris complained to Primo about the address on the thank-you note I sent to them.
I know. Every time you think it couldn't get any weirder than my being a Bad Bacon Eater, something else comes along. Sly and Doris: The Gift That Keeps Giving.
So Primo spoke to Sly and Doris yesterday. My Sins du Jour:
1. I didn't address the note properly. I just wrote "Digger" as my return name and "Drunks" instead of "Mr and Mrs S Drunks" on the "to" address name. They were offended that I didn't write out the "Mr and Mrs," which I don't do for anyone because I am lazy.
They were even more offended that I used my maiden name instead of Primo's surname on the return address. "Didn't she take your name?" they demanded, which strikes me as an odd question from confirmed liberals. Wouldn't they be the ones more likely to say, "Yay women's rights and keeping the maiden name! Down with the patriarchy!"
But no.
That is something I have noticed with my friends. Yes, I did change my surname when I married Primo - a big mistake, as I really do not want to be associated with Sly and Doris in any way, plus I miss my last name, but I don't use it anywhere except work. My email is still "Digger," as is facebook and on LinkedIn. I have never represented myself as Gold Drunk ever to anyone except the IRS and my employer and I am only that way at my employer because they said I had to use my legal name.
Yet it is my friends who themselves are the most adamant about using their maiden names who call me "Gold Drunk" instead of "Gold Digger." Seriously - these are women who pitch a fit if you address a letter to "Mr and Mrs Husband'sLastName." Yet they all wrote their Christmas cards to "Mr and Mrs Primo Drunk."
What's that all about?
2. Sly and Doris found the Christmas letter I wrote in 2005, the year I met Primo. I had sent it to Primo and he sent it on to his parents. Big mistake. Primo thought it was really funny and he thought they would like it as well.
They did not. That letter, they told him yesterday, confirms that they have been right all along not to like me.
The problem?
I mocked communism in the letter. I called it the Pravda. I wrote stories like this:
Five Pairs of Shoes to Paris
Capitalist Swine the Gold Digger took five pairs of shoes on her vacation to Paris. Shoes made with the blood of the laborers but do they own the means of the production? No they do not but one day after the Glorious Revolution they will and all will live in Peace and Harmony.
The Capitalist took not one but five, yes, count them, five pairs of shoes on her vacation when how can you wear more than one pair at a time? You have only two feet, is that not true, Comrade? Yes, two feet. And how many shoes can you get on those two feet at once? Two shoes. One pair. So why would anyone take ten shoes on a bourgeois vacation while the laborers, they get no vacation at all?
So it is fitting that the Capitalist Swine (we spit on her) suffered much pain from the ill-fitting new shoes and the very-high-heeled red crocodile pumps on her Paris getaway with her Moroccan fling while she bathed in the blood of the People.
Sly and Doris did not appreciate it. Shocking.
3. I am self absorbed.
Not in the sense that I dominate every conversation with talk about myself. Not that I show no interest in other people. Not that I expect everyone to do things my way.
No, that would be sly.
Not that I blog about myself. (Who else am I supposed to write about?)
Nope. It's that I insist on going to bed when I want to, even when I am visiting Sly and Doris, which, for the record, no longer happens. I haven't been there in three years, I don't think. So they are ticked about visits that happened over three years ago. A third of a decade, people!
Apparently, when I am visiting there, in addition to cleaning their fridge, cleaning the mildew off all the exterior doors, pulling weeds, and doing the cooking and the dishes, I am supposed to socialize until late in the evening. Even though if I did stay up late with them and Primo, they would complain that I was not giving them any time alone with Primo. God, could they just get five minutes alone with their son? Would it kill me to go to the bedroom and give them some alone time, just the three of them?
"So how come when they visited us, they didn't adjust to our habits?" I asked Primo. "We had to put them in our bedroom. They got up at the crack of dawn and started making noise, even though they knew they were disturbing us in the basement. You had to move the stereo to the living room. We had to entertain them. We had to get the foods they like. They made no effort to adjust to our schedule."
Primo laughed. "No, no, no! That's not how it works! We are always supposed to be the ones to do what they want to do, no matter where they are!"
I know. Every time you think it couldn't get any weirder than my being a Bad Bacon Eater, something else comes along. Sly and Doris: The Gift That Keeps Giving.
So Primo spoke to Sly and Doris yesterday. My Sins du Jour:
1. I didn't address the note properly. I just wrote "Digger" as my return name and "Drunks" instead of "Mr and Mrs S Drunks" on the "to" address name. They were offended that I didn't write out the "Mr and Mrs," which I don't do for anyone because I am lazy.
They were even more offended that I used my maiden name instead of Primo's surname on the return address. "Didn't she take your name?" they demanded, which strikes me as an odd question from confirmed liberals. Wouldn't they be the ones more likely to say, "Yay women's rights and keeping the maiden name! Down with the patriarchy!"
But no.
That is something I have noticed with my friends. Yes, I did change my surname when I married Primo - a big mistake, as I really do not want to be associated with Sly and Doris in any way, plus I miss my last name, but I don't use it anywhere except work. My email is still "Digger," as is facebook and on LinkedIn. I have never represented myself as Gold Drunk ever to anyone except the IRS and my employer and I am only that way at my employer because they said I had to use my legal name.
Yet it is my friends who themselves are the most adamant about using their maiden names who call me "Gold Drunk" instead of "Gold Digger." Seriously - these are women who pitch a fit if you address a letter to "Mr and Mrs Husband'sLastName." Yet they all wrote their Christmas cards to "Mr and Mrs Primo Drunk."
What's that all about?
2. Sly and Doris found the Christmas letter I wrote in 2005, the year I met Primo. I had sent it to Primo and he sent it on to his parents. Big mistake. Primo thought it was really funny and he thought they would like it as well.
They did not. That letter, they told him yesterday, confirms that they have been right all along not to like me.
The problem?
I mocked communism in the letter. I called it the Pravda. I wrote stories like this:
Five Pairs of Shoes to Paris
Capitalist Swine the Gold Digger took five pairs of shoes on her vacation to Paris. Shoes made with the blood of the laborers but do they own the means of the production? No they do not but one day after the Glorious Revolution they will and all will live in Peace and Harmony.
The Capitalist took not one but five, yes, count them, five pairs of shoes on her vacation when how can you wear more than one pair at a time? You have only two feet, is that not true, Comrade? Yes, two feet. And how many shoes can you get on those two feet at once? Two shoes. One pair. So why would anyone take ten shoes on a bourgeois vacation while the laborers, they get no vacation at all?
So it is fitting that the Capitalist Swine (we spit on her) suffered much pain from the ill-fitting new shoes and the very-high-heeled red crocodile pumps on her Paris getaway with her Moroccan fling while she bathed in the blood of the People.
Sly and Doris did not appreciate it. Shocking.
3. I am self absorbed.
Not in the sense that I dominate every conversation with talk about myself. Not that I show no interest in other people. Not that I expect everyone to do things my way.
No, that would be sly.
Not that I blog about myself. (Who else am I supposed to write about?)
Nope. It's that I insist on going to bed when I want to, even when I am visiting Sly and Doris, which, for the record, no longer happens. I haven't been there in three years, I don't think. So they are ticked about visits that happened over three years ago. A third of a decade, people!
Apparently, when I am visiting there, in addition to cleaning their fridge, cleaning the mildew off all the exterior doors, pulling weeds, and doing the cooking and the dishes, I am supposed to socialize until late in the evening. Even though if I did stay up late with them and Primo, they would complain that I was not giving them any time alone with Primo. God, could they just get five minutes alone with their son? Would it kill me to go to the bedroom and give them some alone time, just the three of them?
"So how come when they visited us, they didn't adjust to our habits?" I asked Primo. "We had to put them in our bedroom. They got up at the crack of dawn and started making noise, even though they knew they were disturbing us in the basement. You had to move the stereo to the living room. We had to entertain them. We had to get the foods they like. They made no effort to adjust to our schedule."
Primo laughed. "No, no, no! That's not how it works! We are always supposed to be the ones to do what they want to do, no matter where they are!"
Thursday, April 25, 2013
In which Sly threatens to disinherit Primo
Primo went to his mom and dad's the weekend before Christmas for the Annual Tour de Guilt. While he was there, they had their Annual Airing of the Grievances.
Wait. Let me have Primo tell you in his own words:
Sweetie,
It must be Festivus here because tonight we had the Airing of the Grievances! After I spent much of the day working (taking apart and cleaning the sofa, doing a couple of loads of laundry, cooking flank steaks) and we had a delicious dinner, my dad finally erupted with criticism of your lack of respect for him and especially for my mom. At least he emphasized her, which is consistent with my statements that you should at least try to be on better terms with her. We'll have to talk more about this after I get home.
I'm afraid that my dad is not acknowledging reality when he thinks of where they might live after this house. Although he had never mentioned this to my mom, he claimed that he's been thinking about urban condos in Tucson or possibly Brooklyn (!), not about assisted-living places in Florida.
It is very frustrating to look for information about assisted living; I looked up the place that Stephanie mentioned, which my parents say is only for rich folks. There seems to be no information about costs on the website; they just want to get people to call a salesperson. I think places like that should be required to post information about prices and terms on the Internet (and in a standard format) to make comparisons easy.
I'll see you soon!
Love,
Primo
So what happened is that Sly and Doris got drunk (but you knew that part already) and started complaining about me. Sly thundered at Primo that he better make me toe the line and give Sly the respect he deserves as my elder (he is not deserving of respect just because he is older than I am) and repair our relationship.
Primo and I debated about what "repair the relationship" means, as Sly and Doris have no interest in being around me. We finally concluded that they want me to suck up to them, admit I was wrong about everything, and let them reject me.
Sly then told Primo that if Primo did not get me in line, he would disinherit Primo. Primo wants to know why Sly, who is a die-hard leftist socialist, thinks that Primo should have that kind of power over me. "That's not very feminist of him, is it?" Primo remarked.
I noted that Sly thinks the rules are only for other people. I also thought just now that in the history of most revolutions that I know of, even the Glorious Peoples' Revolutions, the women still end up doing the cooking and the dishes while the men sit around and talk strategy. Remember "For Whom the Bell Tolls?" Doesn't Maria end up doing the cooking?
My point being that even the most politically committed men sometimes stick the women with the crap work while the men do the fun part. Not that being killed is the fun part. But bombing things would be kind of fun, I think. Oh, don't shake your head in dismay. You know it would be fun to blow up a bridge. Tell me you wouldn't want to be the one pushing the thingy to ignite the dynamite to blow up a condemned building. It's power and it's sometimes fun to knock things down.
So Sly, although he is a committed lefty, also thinks that women are meant for certain roles and that men are not to assume those roles. Doris has a broken wrist. Sly complained to Primo that he has to do everything around the house and that Doris is "useless," which of course hurt Doris' feelings because she gets tired of being criticized ALL THE TIME, which is what Sly does, and since when is it Doris' job to do everything? Sly retired from his job years ago. When does Doris get to retire?
I'm off track here. Back to the disinheritance.
Primo told Sly coldly that if that's what Sly wanted, that would be fine. Primo would stay up here with me and Sly and Doris could be down there and they could do without visits from Primo.
Good Primo.
Wait. Let me have Primo tell you in his own words:
Sweetie,
It must be Festivus here because tonight we had the Airing of the Grievances! After I spent much of the day working (taking apart and cleaning the sofa, doing a couple of loads of laundry, cooking flank steaks) and we had a delicious dinner, my dad finally erupted with criticism of your lack of respect for him and especially for my mom. At least he emphasized her, which is consistent with my statements that you should at least try to be on better terms with her. We'll have to talk more about this after I get home.
I'm afraid that my dad is not acknowledging reality when he thinks of where they might live after this house. Although he had never mentioned this to my mom, he claimed that he's been thinking about urban condos in Tucson or possibly Brooklyn (!), not about assisted-living places in Florida.
It is very frustrating to look for information about assisted living; I looked up the place that Stephanie mentioned, which my parents say is only for rich folks. There seems to be no information about costs on the website; they just want to get people to call a salesperson. I think places like that should be required to post information about prices and terms on the Internet (and in a standard format) to make comparisons easy.
I'll see you soon!
Love,
Primo
So what happened is that Sly and Doris got drunk (but you knew that part already) and started complaining about me. Sly thundered at Primo that he better make me toe the line and give Sly the respect he deserves as my elder (he is not deserving of respect just because he is older than I am) and repair our relationship.
Primo and I debated about what "repair the relationship" means, as Sly and Doris have no interest in being around me. We finally concluded that they want me to suck up to them, admit I was wrong about everything, and let them reject me.
Sly then told Primo that if Primo did not get me in line, he would disinherit Primo. Primo wants to know why Sly, who is a die-hard leftist socialist, thinks that Primo should have that kind of power over me. "That's not very feminist of him, is it?" Primo remarked.
I noted that Sly thinks the rules are only for other people. I also thought just now that in the history of most revolutions that I know of, even the Glorious Peoples' Revolutions, the women still end up doing the cooking and the dishes while the men sit around and talk strategy. Remember "For Whom the Bell Tolls?" Doesn't Maria end up doing the cooking?
My point being that even the most politically committed men sometimes stick the women with the crap work while the men do the fun part. Not that being killed is the fun part. But bombing things would be kind of fun, I think. Oh, don't shake your head in dismay. You know it would be fun to blow up a bridge. Tell me you wouldn't want to be the one pushing the thingy to ignite the dynamite to blow up a condemned building. It's power and it's sometimes fun to knock things down.
So Sly, although he is a committed lefty, also thinks that women are meant for certain roles and that men are not to assume those roles. Doris has a broken wrist. Sly complained to Primo that he has to do everything around the house and that Doris is "useless," which of course hurt Doris' feelings because she gets tired of being criticized ALL THE TIME, which is what Sly does, and since when is it Doris' job to do everything? Sly retired from his job years ago. When does Doris get to retire?
I'm off track here. Back to the disinheritance.
Primo told Sly coldly that if that's what Sly wanted, that would be fine. Primo would stay up here with me and Sly and Doris could be down there and they could do without visits from Primo.
Good Primo.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Wednesday November 7 The people speak
Here are some of the emails and facebook posts Primo got.
First, from Ted. Again, not useful. We were not looking for solid life experience.
Solid effort and I'm sure you gained significant life experiences!
love ted
From Mark Smith, his opponent.
First, from Ted. Again, not useful. We were not looking for solid life experience.
Solid effort and I'm sure you gained significant life experiences!
love ted
From Mark Smith, his opponent.
Primo's response to Mark.
Thank
you, Mark. You're a good man and an impressive politician; you worked
hard and earned my respect along with your victory. Thank you for
running a clean and positive campaign. As you said on the phone, "it's
nice to run against a gentleman." Congratulations!
From my sister.
I am so proud of my brother-in-law, Primo, who had a vision, and worked hard on his campaign. And proud of my sister,the Gold Digger, who stood by his side to help him reach his dream. You might not have won at the polls but you ran a great race.
From a work friend.
Proud to be friends with Primo. He didn't win, but he stepped into the fray and lent his voice and energy to the political process.
From Primo's stepdaughter.
If I lived out there I would have voted for
you -and not because I love you but because I BELIEVE in you:) so proud
of you for finishing the race! You crossed the finish line..now time to
train for the next!
From my sister in law (for extra credit, contrast her note to Ted's).
GD,
I'm sorry about Primo, but I am proud of him for all his hard work and
efforts. He believed in something and ran with it. His day will
come!!! Love you both....xoxoxox 
From my friends on FB.
You
both are better people for trying something new and will do better next
time. At least Primo won't be lying in bed 20 years from now tossing
and turning, wishing he had tried to make a difference. Be Proud Kiddo!
I'm so sorry!!!! if it had been possible, it would have been an honor to vote for Primo.
Primo and GD, we are so proud of you both. I know you are disappointed
and sad today, but hold your heads up high...you put yourselves out
there (literally) and that's more than most people.
We
were watching the returns online last night -- so sorry about the
outcome! Just move back to Texas already. We'll appreciate Primo down
here.
So sorry to hear that Primo didn't make it but I am proud of both of you for your hard work and dedication!
You both have put more into the democratic process than most of us will in a lifetime. Be proud of your efforts
I
am so proud to be your friends and appreciate all the time and effort
and integrity you put into our political process. I'm sorry for the
outcome and hope you get some down time now.
Well good for Primo for getting involved in the process. Most of us just whine and do nothing. Proud of you both.
Considering
what it takes to run for an office, you both deserve congratulations
for just getting that far. Your people will be missing out.
We also got a note from Sam's wife and for the life of me I cannot remember what her dom d'blog is. She said she and Sam would like to give more financial help:
Also, if we can be of any financial help when all is said and done please let us know; I'm sure there are a lot of expenses. My mom has offered further support, as well.
Also, if we can be of any financial help when all is said and done please let us know; I'm sure there are a lot of expenses. My mom has offered further support, as well.
How nice was that? We turned her down, of course, but what a generous offer to make, especially after they had already contributed $1,000.
Wednesday Nov 7 Will there be more?
Primo has already gotten two calls from voters asking if he'll be running again in two years.
I am inclined to say no, unless someone else wants to fund this campaign.
I am inclined to say no, unless someone else wants to fund this campaign.
Wednesday Nov 7 The concession
What Primo posted on his facebook page after he and Mark Smith spoke:
To my family, friends, campaign staff, volunteers, donors, and the more than 14,000 voters who cast ballots for me: Thank you! Although yesterday's result was not what we hoped for, it was a good showing in a very difficult district against a worthy opponent. I am proud of this accomplishment, and it would not have been possible without your support and encouragement. I've received many messages of thanks and sympathy that are truly appreciated. I intend to respond to each message, but it may take me a little while to catch up!
Mark Smith worked hard, ran a clean campaign, and earned his victory along with my respect. Although we disagree on many issues, he is a good man and we share some common ground. He and I have spoken today, and we've agreed to meet soon for a social visit. Especially because the (very well-received) theme of my campaign was working together, I suggest that we all try to work with Mark and ask him to help create a more civil and cooperative atmosphere in the capitol when the new legislative session begins.
What Mark posted on Primo's page:
Primo -- you ran an impressive campaign. It was a pleasure to get to know you over the course of the race and I look forward to meeting up with you for a beer.
To my family, friends, campaign staff, volunteers, donors, and the more than 14,000 voters who cast ballots for me: Thank you! Although yesterday's result was not what we hoped for, it was a good showing in a very difficult district against a worthy opponent. I am proud of this accomplishment, and it would not have been possible without your support and encouragement. I've received many messages of thanks and sympathy that are truly appreciated. I intend to respond to each message, but it may take me a little while to catch up!
Mark Smith worked hard, ran a clean campaign, and earned his victory along with my respect. Although we disagree on many issues, he is a good man and we share some common ground. He and I have spoken today, and we've agreed to meet soon for a social visit. Especially because the (very well-received) theme of my campaign was working together, I suggest that we all try to work with Mark and ask him to help create a more civil and cooperative atmosphere in the capitol when the new legislative session begins.
What Mark posted on Primo's page:
Primo -- you ran an impressive campaign. It was a pleasure to get to know you over the course of the race and I look forward to meeting up with you for a beer.
Wednesday Nov 7 The results
We are sad.
41%. That's what Primo got.
But that's more than MaryJane got, so there is a victory of some sort.
41%. That's what Primo got.
But that's more than MaryJane got, so there is a victory of some sort.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Tuesday Nov 6 Waiting for the results
It's 10:30 p.m. and Primo is behind 29% to 71%. But that's only 14% of the vote. It could turn around. I'm going to bed. I hate this.
Tuesday Nov 6 Primo is weary
Primo brought me home from party #2 and then left again for party #3 downtown with the big cheese Polka Dots. "Don't let the car get towed this time," I warned.
"I'm going to sleep late tomorrow," he said, "and then I'm not going to take a shower. I've taken a shower every day since August 24. I'm not going to shower tomorrow."
"I'm going to sleep late tomorrow," he said, "and then I'm not going to take a shower. I've taken a shower every day since August 24. I'm not going to shower tomorrow."
Tuesday Nov 6 Election Day - the parties
Party #1:
I had to go to some election night parties with Primo. Trust me, not how I want to spend my time. I don't want to go to Polka Dot parties, I don't want to go to Stripes parties. I AM DONE WITH POLITICS! I especially don't want to go to a party where the attendees are hissing at the Stripes politicians on the screen. Really? So elegant.
The first party was hosted by two candidates. I thought Primo and I had made our escape - I was waiting in the front of the restaurant for him to say his goodbyes after we had been there for over an hour, but then he came out to bring me back in. "They're going to acknowledge me in their speeches," he said. "I want you there."
I rolled my eyes, sighed, and walked back in. He stood in the front with the candidates. I stood in the back.
Some guy - not one of the candidates - was speaking. Droning. About how the fight would continue against (the Koch Brothers/George Soros/pick your own evil rich person or family). He wouldn't shut up. My feet started to hurt. I was getting annoyed. I would have read something interesting on my smartypants phone but I couldn't get a connection in the restaurant, which is consistent with my other experience with T-Mobile. That is, it works great in my house, where I have a computer and a phone, but it rarely works when I am away from the house and a connection would be useful.
He finally shut the heck up.
But then Candidate #1 got up and took the microphone.
Candidate #1 is a talker. At least she does not drone, but who wants to listen to political speeches? Even if you agree with the person, you have to admit that political speeches are boring.
She talked and talked and talked. She thanked everyone who had helped her and introduced them all to the crowd. As if we cared. Then she asked all the children in the room to come up to the stage. Primo looked at me and laughed. I rolled my eyes. We both knew what was coming: A "It's for the leetle cheeldren!" speech.
And indeed it was. Primo looked at me again, biting his lip and trying not to laugh. I just rolled my eyes and scowled. My feet hurt and I was bored stiff. Man, I hate politics.
Then she launched into the women in politics discourse and how she was doing it for the women. As if only a woman can represent another woman. And only a man can represent another man. I guess I need to vote only for middle-aged, plump, Scandanvian women who dye their hair Clairol #24 Clove. How can anyone else ever understand me and my needs?
Party #2:
We got to Party #2. Every seat is taken as people stare at the TV. There is nowhere to sit. The hostess asks if she can take my coat. It's freezing inside the house, so I decline. She offers food, but we are not hungry - we ate at Party #1, which, to its credit, had good food.
I am not interested in watching political analysis on TV. It's only 8:00 p.m. The polls are just closing in our time zone. There is still one more time zone to go. We won't know anything for a while about the president and really, I don't care about the president. There is nothing I can do about the presidential race. I can just hope for my candidate.
What I really want to know is about Primo's race and they're not reporting on that. The president will be who the president will be, people! Watching the analysis won't change the outcome!
Samantha and her husband are at the party. They are in the dining room, looking at the local newspaper online, checking local results. Which of course are not in yet because the polls just closed.
I turn my back to Samantha. I don't want to talk to her.
I look at the desserts. All store bought.
Some store-bought stuff is OK, but I am not impressed with the selection. I guess I should have brought something but I didn't know. Primo did bring wine.
I look for the bathroom, just so I can have a place to be alone. I walk into the kitchen and discover why it's so cold: the kitchen window is open. Closing it would solve a lot of the problem, but it's not my house so it's not my call. I just keep my coat on.
Then I notice the cats. I can always hang out with cats. I sit on a box in the kitchen next to one cat and stroke it until it loses patience and saunters away.
I return to the dining room, hoping that Primo won't want to stay long. I see MaryJane. She starts talking to me.
I have to stay far enough back not to be assaulted by her two-pack-a-day breath. It is just foul. She is talking about the candidate forum that she and Primo participated in.
"At first, I thought the Stripes were evil," she says, "but my opinion changed after the forum. Now I think they're just robots who can't function without a script."
Well. If your opponent is an evil robot who can't function without a script, then there is no need to address the actual issues, is there? I am confident that MaryJane will win her district with that compelling campaign strategy.
Primo shakes his head. "My opponent is a good guy," he says. "He's a good politician. We agree on some things."
"But he didn't even know about [legislation that was passed last session]! He voted on it! And he didn't know!" MaryJane protests.
I agree that it was bad that Mark didn't remember that legislation, but to be honest, it was stupid and pointless legislation. More accurately, it was legislation to correct a stupid and pointless law that had been passed in the previous session by the Polka Dots. In light of everything else that went on last year, I guess I'm not surprised that stupid and pointless laws about stupid and pointless laws didn't stick in his mind. He should have remembered. But that didn't mean he was an evil robot.
"Are you going to call [your opponent] if you lose?" Primo asks MaryJane.
MaryJane scoffs. "I don't owe him a thing!"
I am shocked. "But isn't that how it's done? That you call and concede?"
I don't know if that's how it's done. Maybe it's not. "Won't it hurt you later if you don't?"
MaryJane shakes her head. "The people in my neighborhood won't care. And he's going to do such damage that I don't have to do anything. If he wins, I might call him tomorrow."
Primo says, "If I lose, I'll call Mark tonight."
That's because Primo is not a jerk.
I had to go to some election night parties with Primo. Trust me, not how I want to spend my time. I don't want to go to Polka Dot parties, I don't want to go to Stripes parties. I AM DONE WITH POLITICS! I especially don't want to go to a party where the attendees are hissing at the Stripes politicians on the screen. Really? So elegant.
The first party was hosted by two candidates. I thought Primo and I had made our escape - I was waiting in the front of the restaurant for him to say his goodbyes after we had been there for over an hour, but then he came out to bring me back in. "They're going to acknowledge me in their speeches," he said. "I want you there."
I rolled my eyes, sighed, and walked back in. He stood in the front with the candidates. I stood in the back.
Some guy - not one of the candidates - was speaking. Droning. About how the fight would continue against (the Koch Brothers/George Soros/pick your own evil rich person or family). He wouldn't shut up. My feet started to hurt. I was getting annoyed. I would have read something interesting on my smartypants phone but I couldn't get a connection in the restaurant, which is consistent with my other experience with T-Mobile. That is, it works great in my house, where I have a computer and a phone, but it rarely works when I am away from the house and a connection would be useful.
He finally shut the heck up.
But then Candidate #1 got up and took the microphone.
Candidate #1 is a talker. At least she does not drone, but who wants to listen to political speeches? Even if you agree with the person, you have to admit that political speeches are boring.
She talked and talked and talked. She thanked everyone who had helped her and introduced them all to the crowd. As if we cared. Then she asked all the children in the room to come up to the stage. Primo looked at me and laughed. I rolled my eyes. We both knew what was coming: A "It's for the leetle cheeldren!" speech.
And indeed it was. Primo looked at me again, biting his lip and trying not to laugh. I just rolled my eyes and scowled. My feet hurt and I was bored stiff. Man, I hate politics.
Then she launched into the women in politics discourse and how she was doing it for the women. As if only a woman can represent another woman. And only a man can represent another man. I guess I need to vote only for middle-aged, plump, Scandanvian women who dye their hair Clairol #24 Clove. How can anyone else ever understand me and my needs?
Party #2:
We got to Party #2. Every seat is taken as people stare at the TV. There is nowhere to sit. The hostess asks if she can take my coat. It's freezing inside the house, so I decline. She offers food, but we are not hungry - we ate at Party #1, which, to its credit, had good food.
I am not interested in watching political analysis on TV. It's only 8:00 p.m. The polls are just closing in our time zone. There is still one more time zone to go. We won't know anything for a while about the president and really, I don't care about the president. There is nothing I can do about the presidential race. I can just hope for my candidate.
What I really want to know is about Primo's race and they're not reporting on that. The president will be who the president will be, people! Watching the analysis won't change the outcome!
Samantha and her husband are at the party. They are in the dining room, looking at the local newspaper online, checking local results. Which of course are not in yet because the polls just closed.
I turn my back to Samantha. I don't want to talk to her.
I look at the desserts. All store bought.
Some store-bought stuff is OK, but I am not impressed with the selection. I guess I should have brought something but I didn't know. Primo did bring wine.
I look for the bathroom, just so I can have a place to be alone. I walk into the kitchen and discover why it's so cold: the kitchen window is open. Closing it would solve a lot of the problem, but it's not my house so it's not my call. I just keep my coat on.
Then I notice the cats. I can always hang out with cats. I sit on a box in the kitchen next to one cat and stroke it until it loses patience and saunters away.
I return to the dining room, hoping that Primo won't want to stay long. I see MaryJane. She starts talking to me.
I have to stay far enough back not to be assaulted by her two-pack-a-day breath. It is just foul. She is talking about the candidate forum that she and Primo participated in.
"At first, I thought the Stripes were evil," she says, "but my opinion changed after the forum. Now I think they're just robots who can't function without a script."
Well. If your opponent is an evil robot who can't function without a script, then there is no need to address the actual issues, is there? I am confident that MaryJane will win her district with that compelling campaign strategy.
Primo shakes his head. "My opponent is a good guy," he says. "He's a good politician. We agree on some things."
"But he didn't even know about [legislation that was passed last session]! He voted on it! And he didn't know!" MaryJane protests.
I agree that it was bad that Mark didn't remember that legislation, but to be honest, it was stupid and pointless legislation. More accurately, it was legislation to correct a stupid and pointless law that had been passed in the previous session by the Polka Dots. In light of everything else that went on last year, I guess I'm not surprised that stupid and pointless laws about stupid and pointless laws didn't stick in his mind. He should have remembered. But that didn't mean he was an evil robot.
"Are you going to call [your opponent] if you lose?" Primo asks MaryJane.
MaryJane scoffs. "I don't owe him a thing!"
I am shocked. "But isn't that how it's done? That you call and concede?"
I don't know if that's how it's done. Maybe it's not. "Won't it hurt you later if you don't?"
MaryJane shakes her head. "The people in my neighborhood won't care. And he's going to do such damage that I don't have to do anything. If he wins, I might call him tomorrow."
Primo says, "If I lose, I'll call Mark tonight."
That's because Primo is not a jerk.
Tuesday Nov 6 A voter emails Primo
|
Oct 18
 | | ||
| ||||
| Hi Primo, You stopped by house last week. 1745 Main St. You made a great impression, but I feel you may have misrepresented yourself to me. Now I see your yard sign in yards with folks who have [Polka Dot presidential candidate] signs. I'm confused. If you support [the PD guy] and his policies and ideals, then don't count on my vote.
Nice to meet you! Best of luck in the vote!
Joe Blow
|
|
Nov 6 (1 day ago)
| | ||
| ||||
Joe,
I am very sorry to have overlooked your message last month. I thought I had responded to every e-mail from a potential voter, but I discovered tonight that I had begun typing a response to you, saved it as a draft, and then forgotten about it.
My commitment is to represent everyone in the new House district. I think the new district lines call for a balanced approach, and I plan to stake out some moderate positions instead of following in lockstep with the agenda of any party or interest group.
I am the Polka Dot on the ballot for this House seat (and my opponent is a Stripe), but I have never held elective office and am not receiving support from the state party. My moderate approach has been somewhat controversial; one of the mailers I sent out got the attention of Channel 39's political reporter, who lives in the district and came to my house for an interview. My opponent was also interviewed for the news story; he claimed that I am trying to mislead voters, but that isn't true. I am married to a Stripe and have to "work across the aisle" every day. If I'm elected, the first thing I'm going to do is try to make friends with the two leading moderates in the legislature, Senators Jack and Jane.
Because I am the Polka Dot in this race, it should be expected that some of my supporters also have [PD presidential candidate] signs. I also have some supporters who are voting for [the Stripes guy].
I'm trying to get voters to think about me and my moderate approach to this very diverse district instead of just thinking about a Polka Dot vs. a Stripe. If that way of thinking appeals to you, I'd be honored to have your support. Thank you for the good wishes!
Best regards,
Primo
I am very sorry to have overlooked your message last month. I thought I had responded to every e-mail from a potential voter, but I discovered tonight that I had begun typing a response to you, saved it as a draft, and then forgotten about it.
My commitment is to represent everyone in the new House district. I think the new district lines call for a balanced approach, and I plan to stake out some moderate positions instead of following in lockstep with the agenda of any party or interest group.
I am the Polka Dot on the ballot for this House seat (and my opponent is a Stripe), but I have never held elective office and am not receiving support from the state party. My moderate approach has been somewhat controversial; one of the mailers I sent out got the attention of Channel 39's political reporter, who lives in the district and came to my house for an interview. My opponent was also interviewed for the news story; he claimed that I am trying to mislead voters, but that isn't true. I am married to a Stripe and have to "work across the aisle" every day. If I'm elected, the first thing I'm going to do is try to make friends with the two leading moderates in the legislature, Senators Jack and Jane.
Because I am the Polka Dot in this race, it should be expected that some of my supporters also have [PD presidential candidate] signs. I also have some supporters who are voting for [the Stripes guy].
I'm trying to get voters to think about me and my moderate approach to this very diverse district instead of just thinking about a Polka Dot vs. a Stripe. If that way of thinking appeals to you, I'd be honored to have your support. Thank you for the good wishes!
Best regards,
Primo
|
Nov 6 (1 day ago)
| | ||
| ||||
Hi--- Thanks for your response. I am a political junkie, but I may be sitting out the election, the first one in my 24 years of voting. None of the major candidates are worthy my vote.
Joe
|
9:34 AM (4 hours ago)
| | ||
| ||||
Joe
Tuesday Nov 6 Primo is resigned
A sense of calm has overtaken Primo. I called him from work at lunchtime. "I'm probably going to lose," he said, "but that's OK. At least I'll be losing to someone who worked hard and isn't a jerk. I don't want to go back to my job, but it's a good job and I work with good people. It could be a lot worse."
Wow. Primo. Making the best of it. That is not a skill he learned from Sly and Doris, whose motto, were it to be engraved on a crest, would surely be, "He who whines last whines best." Or maybe, "Nobody is worthy of us." Or, "Everything sucks and I get despondent."
"Isabel sent me a text," he said. "She wished me luck."
Wow! Even Isabel is being gracious. The last we heard from her, in September, when Primo called to remind her that the five years of alimony had come to an end, was that she wanted more money.
Honey. You're an honors graduate from a top school. You signed the decree. You've known from day 1 that the alimony would end. You should have been planning for it.
Primo's best friend Sam called him on Sunday to wish him luck. A bunch of his friends have put messages on facebook wishing him well. We are all hoping.
Wow. Primo. Making the best of it. That is not a skill he learned from Sly and Doris, whose motto, were it to be engraved on a crest, would surely be, "He who whines last whines best." Or maybe, "Nobody is worthy of us." Or, "Everything sucks and I get despondent."
"Isabel sent me a text," he said. "She wished me luck."
Wow! Even Isabel is being gracious. The last we heard from her, in September, when Primo called to remind her that the five years of alimony had come to an end, was that she wanted more money.
Honey. You're an honors graduate from a top school. You signed the decree. You've known from day 1 that the alimony would end. You should have been planning for it.
Primo's best friend Sam called him on Sunday to wish him luck. A bunch of his friends have put messages on facebook wishing him well. We are all hoping.
Tuesday Nov 6 Election Day
Primo and I are as nervous as a couple of cats at a rocking chair convention.
My alarm went off at 6:30, but I was awake at 5:45. So was he. Nervous, nervous, nervous.
I voted. Stood in line for half an hour, which I have never had to do before. But I have never voted at 7:30 a.m. before, either.
I saw that there was a bake sale just inside. Cool. The intersection of capitalism and democracy!
I was not so impressed once I was inside and could hear one of the woman working the sale. She wouldn't shut up, talking about how the sale was a fundraiser (which is fine) for the fifth graders to participate in a dance program (also fine). What bugged me was that it was a "freewill" sale. That is, they weren't going to tell us how much the brownies cost. We had to decide what they were worth to us, which I suppose actually is capitalism at its purest. But I do not like bargaining and I don't like deciding what a worthwhile price is for a charity, so I didn't get anything.
I picked up a sample ballot once I got inside. Actually, I took two: one for us to keep and one to send to my mother, along with copies of all of Primo's campaign literature.
Later, Primo asked me why I hadn't gotten a copy for his parents.
Ha.
Anyhow, I grabbed two sample ballots and looked for Primo's name.
It was there! Way at the bottom, after Barak Obama and Mitt Romney, but it was there.
The guy behind me asked if I was deciding who to vote for.
I decided not to give him my speech about how if you don't know who you're voting for by the time you get to the polls, then you shouldn't be voting.
Instead, I pointed to Primo's name and said, "My husband is on the ballot!" I wasn't sure if that was electioneering - probably not. I was just stating a fact.
He peered over my shoulder. "Oh!" he said. "He's a Polka Dot! I always vote for Polka Dots!"
I said, "Well, we're really hoping people will evaluate him as a person, not as part of one party or another." But my breath was wasted. How do you evaluate someone while you're at the polls? Plus it was a vote for Primo, so I was going to take it.
I got my ballot. Voted. Put it in the machine. Looked at the clock.
8:04. My bus left at 8:08. Three blocks away. Rats. I would have to wait for the 8:37.
But I thought, "I should at least run. I should try."
I ran. As I got to the cross street, I saw the bus pass. Curses. I missed it by seconds. But when I got to the corner, it was still stopped at the other end of the block. I waved my arms as I ran awkwardly, trying to keep my gym bag and my purse on my shoulder.
The bus waited! I couldn't believe it!
Then I got on the bus. Nope. Not waiting for me. There was an older lady interrogating the driver about routes. Whatever. She took long enough that I made it.
Looked at Mark Smith's facebook page when I got to work. He wrote a few weeks ago that he had introduced legislation requiring the "Do not call" lists to apply to politicians. I almost sent him a message telling him that Primo and I, after our experience making the political calls, had decided that would be Primo's first legislation if he were elected.
I am happy at the hard work Primo has done. Happy at the support. Happy that his ex-wife sent him a text wishing him luck. Now we wait.
My alarm went off at 6:30, but I was awake at 5:45. So was he. Nervous, nervous, nervous.
I voted. Stood in line for half an hour, which I have never had to do before. But I have never voted at 7:30 a.m. before, either.
I saw that there was a bake sale just inside. Cool. The intersection of capitalism and democracy!
I was not so impressed once I was inside and could hear one of the woman working the sale. She wouldn't shut up, talking about how the sale was a fundraiser (which is fine) for the fifth graders to participate in a dance program (also fine). What bugged me was that it was a "freewill" sale. That is, they weren't going to tell us how much the brownies cost. We had to decide what they were worth to us, which I suppose actually is capitalism at its purest. But I do not like bargaining and I don't like deciding what a worthwhile price is for a charity, so I didn't get anything.
I picked up a sample ballot once I got inside. Actually, I took two: one for us to keep and one to send to my mother, along with copies of all of Primo's campaign literature.
Later, Primo asked me why I hadn't gotten a copy for his parents.
Ha.
Anyhow, I grabbed two sample ballots and looked for Primo's name.
It was there! Way at the bottom, after Barak Obama and Mitt Romney, but it was there.
The guy behind me asked if I was deciding who to vote for.
I decided not to give him my speech about how if you don't know who you're voting for by the time you get to the polls, then you shouldn't be voting.
Instead, I pointed to Primo's name and said, "My husband is on the ballot!" I wasn't sure if that was electioneering - probably not. I was just stating a fact.
He peered over my shoulder. "Oh!" he said. "He's a Polka Dot! I always vote for Polka Dots!"
I said, "Well, we're really hoping people will evaluate him as a person, not as part of one party or another." But my breath was wasted. How do you evaluate someone while you're at the polls? Plus it was a vote for Primo, so I was going to take it.
I got my ballot. Voted. Put it in the machine. Looked at the clock.
8:04. My bus left at 8:08. Three blocks away. Rats. I would have to wait for the 8:37.
But I thought, "I should at least run. I should try."
I ran. As I got to the cross street, I saw the bus pass. Curses. I missed it by seconds. But when I got to the corner, it was still stopped at the other end of the block. I waved my arms as I ran awkwardly, trying to keep my gym bag and my purse on my shoulder.
The bus waited! I couldn't believe it!
Then I got on the bus. Nope. Not waiting for me. There was an older lady interrogating the driver about routes. Whatever. She took long enough that I made it.
Looked at Mark Smith's facebook page when I got to work. He wrote a few weeks ago that he had introduced legislation requiring the "Do not call" lists to apply to politicians. I almost sent him a message telling him that Primo and I, after our experience making the political calls, had decided that would be Primo's first legislation if he were elected.
I am happy at the hard work Primo has done. Happy at the support. Happy that his ex-wife sent him a text wishing him luck. Now we wait.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Monday Nov 5 And now we wait
Primo and I just returned from our last lit drop session. We dropped over 600 pieces of literature today. Maybe we should have been doing that every weekend. I for sure would fit into the Thin Jeans by now.
It's 9:27. We finished the last territory and we decided it was creepy to be opening screen doors to insert the lit after dark. I wouldn't like it if someone did that to me. Complicating things was I was trying to leave the lit at back doors (actually, side doors) whenever possible because people here don't use their front doors. We don't. We use the side door because it's easier to get to the car that way. The only time we use the front door is for company who does not know us well or to check the mail.
And I now use the front door to leave in the morning because to use the back door, I have to open the kitchen door, which would let the cats in. And letting the cats upstairs at 6:44 a.m. would not make Primo, my night owl husband, happy, as he sleeps until 8:00 or later. I envy him, although I would not keep his nighttime hours. Why would you stay up until 2:00 a.m. if you weren't at gunpoint? I treasure my sleep.
SO. I had stuck the lit in this door and I heard someone in the kitchen. He opened the door.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm doing last-minute campaigning for my husband."
He looked at the lit piece.
"I think this is the guy we're voting for," he said. He called to his wife. She came over and looked.
"This is the guy," she agreed. "He called me a few weeks ago. I really liked him. I like that he'll work for this area."
I told them they were making the right decision.
It's 9:27. We finished the last territory and we decided it was creepy to be opening screen doors to insert the lit after dark. I wouldn't like it if someone did that to me. Complicating things was I was trying to leave the lit at back doors (actually, side doors) whenever possible because people here don't use their front doors. We don't. We use the side door because it's easier to get to the car that way. The only time we use the front door is for company who does not know us well or to check the mail.
And I now use the front door to leave in the morning because to use the back door, I have to open the kitchen door, which would let the cats in. And letting the cats upstairs at 6:44 a.m. would not make Primo, my night owl husband, happy, as he sleeps until 8:00 or later. I envy him, although I would not keep his nighttime hours. Why would you stay up until 2:00 a.m. if you weren't at gunpoint? I treasure my sleep.
SO. I had stuck the lit in this door and I heard someone in the kitchen. He opened the door.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm doing last-minute campaigning for my husband."
He looked at the lit piece.
"I think this is the guy we're voting for," he said. He called to his wife. She came over and looked.
"This is the guy," she agreed. "He called me a few weeks ago. I really liked him. I like that he'll work for this area."
I told them they were making the right decision.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
