Every four years, this country is afflicted with temporary madness.
by Elizabeth Lee of elizabethly
Photo from Lindsay G’s flickr
I am tired of hearing about politics, tired of 75% of my Facebook news feed being comprised of those viral photo+text propaganda images that get spread around like wildfire, as though that’s why I get on Facebook every day. (Hint: it’s not. I’ll take your baby and dog pictures any day over that nonsense.) I cannot wait for this election to be over and done.
Tax returns! Birth certificate! Health care! Dog on the roof of his car! Socialist! Elitist! Muslim!
Really?
Much of this stuff comes from otherwise intelligent people, who in every other facet of life seem capable of having opinions that weren’t prefabricated by their favorite sensationalist news source.
Let’s face it, folks – we the people are not in possession of all the facts. What’s more, for many of the accusations I’ve come across, the only person who knows whether they are true or not is the person who stands accused. So much of what’s said is conjecture, designed to invoke an emotional reaction, and it comes from every camp.
I don’t enjoy being bombarded with political sentiment everywhere I go – whether I’m being preached at directly, or simply overhearing a little mudslinging in the local bookstore. It’s all abrasive to me.
What baffles me most is how public people are with their pontificating. I prefer to keep my beliefs private.
When I was a kid, my parents never even would tell me who they were voting for. I’m sure they talked about it with each other once I was in bed, or out of the house somewhere, but in front of me, they remained pretty neutral about who they supported and what party they backed. I always found their reticence thought-provoking. They got a bit more outspoken as I got older, probably because they figured I had already formed some theories of my own and was less impressionable.
Right from the beginning, Mom and Dad have been very good about encouraging me to come to my own conclusions about life. I guess they must be advocates of individualism. Some parents seem to expect their children to become ideological clones, and are then shocked when the kids turn out to have their own opinions.
This was never the case in my house while I was growing up. We would sometimes butt heads over issues, but never did I feel that to disagree with my parents was wrong, in and of itself. I know they wished I shared their beliefs, but they seemed to accept that I was going to have my own convictions, and that they could steam about it all they wanted, but it wasn’t going to change me.
Mom and Dad, I appreciate that. I don’t know if I’ve told you that at all, or if I have, if I’ve said it often enough. Thanks for letting me become my own person, even if you weren’t sure you were going to like how I ended up. Thanks for providing me with the opportunity to form a distinct ‘self.’
I’ve gone through just about every shade of the political and philosophical spectrum, which was probably pretty amusing from my parents’ perspective. Funnily enough, I ended up coming around to their way of thinking about some things, after all.
I will admit that much, but I’m still not going to tell anyone who I’m voting for. That’s Top Secret husband and wife stuff.
I’m Elizabeth. I cook, read, and write, adore my husband, spoil my cat, drink tea, take pictures, do crosswords and Sudoku, thirst for knowledge, and get enormous enjoyment out of little things.
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