Me? I’m dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly… stupid. Captain Jack Sparrow
So my family and I took a trip to Washington DC this past weekend. We fought off hypothermia as we walked around Constitution Avenue and the blocks surrounding the Smithsonian museums and galleries while Congress and the House and the President (who popped back in from yet another exotic vacation– this time it was Hawaii) debated what is the best way to jump off the fiscal cliff.
As I’m fairly aware of my surroundings at all times, I knew when I heard the chik,chik,chik,chik of chopper blades between the Senate and the White House, and knowing I was standing in the middle of a no fly zone, I quickly deduced it was most likely Marine One. Especially since there were news media vans from every major city in America parked mere yards away.
This minute stands out firmly in my brain when I saw the helicopter because I saw it as a historic opportunity to teach my son about the “majesty” of the Office of President. At the very least, there was historical relevance of “WOW! You are standing here on nearly the last day of 2012, and the President of the United States is circling right above us!” I grabbed my video camera and hit record as an agent in dark clothing several dozen yards away kept his polite assault rifle on standby, just in case I was a nut job and my video camera was a weapon. I decided to make tiny movements and speak slowly.
“Look son! It’s the President’s official helicopter hovering above you!” And as I simultaneously hit the record button to record a slice of history for all posterity, my seven year old sorely exclaimed, “I don’t care about the President flying above, I’m just too FREEZING to death! Can we just GO ?!?!?” I turned the camera off. That was it. I had to laugh. My son’s first opportunity to witness something historical and he blows it.
See a few weeks ago, though I confess it now feels more like years, I was much of a political junkie. Addicted, I would even say. A year of nail biting to the nub while digesting all the political fodder, I was totally wrapped up in every moment of the pending election and the crisis that would ensue if my guy didn’t win.
He didn’t. I cried. And then the next day came. Right on schedule.
So I had to laugh when I realized my son is not yet a political junkie or gasp…..even a patriot! We still have time to teach love of country. Right now, hate of weather was the only crisis he was concerned with.
We have all been dealing with crisis for quite a while. I don’t know about you but I’m rather crisis weary!
Being that in my life every day I deal with everything from my van’s transmission blowing up, to root canals gone awry that demand a redrill soon, to dryers clunking out, to cracked iPhone screens, to nightly homework-help marathons, to figuring out how to pay for college, and manage mothering and part time work on all the days that don’t involve family vacation day OR dreams of my fodder (which dabbling in writing/photography basically amounts to).
Basically the other 354 days of the year, I, like most Americans sit down with our calendar and our Quicken and try to figure out how to rob Peter, Paul, and Mary to pay the remaining bills when there is too much month at the end of the money after the first stack of bills, disasters, and Uncle Sam are paid. I try to balance dreams with reality with 1% of time devoted to dreams and well….you do the math.
I am already keenly familiar with fiscal cliffs and their ensuing aftermath. They basically go down like this:
The poop hits the fan.
And then the sun rises.
Yep, that’s about it. You just add another zero on the right side of the ledger and you keep moving on. Simple as pie. One or both of you starts taking on more work. Second jobs are added. Part time switches to full-time. Full time takes on overtime. It’s all good….right?
In a New World Order based on fairness and equality, we have not even begun to pay our fair share, as there is always someone who works harder than we do, and according to the media, nearly everyone has way less which gives me a never-ending guilt complex. We have a long ways to go until we’re all equal, and we all have a fair equal shot at everything in life.
Before our trip to DC, we had just wrapped up first part of our vacation at Disney World and Universal Studios in Florida. It was great. Off went the TV. On came the fun! Our biggest crisis was “Puh-leeze Dad! Did you have to cut the cheese again?!?!”
We laughed. We gallivanted between theme parks and traipsed around museums. We nearly amused ourselves to death! We became ignorant of the world around us for the first time in a long time. We decided to postpone our personal fiscal cliff until 2013!
And now vacation is over. School is back in session and all are back to work. My daughter leaves for college soon and has informed me of where she will live this summer, which is NOT home. Reality beckons after almost two weeks spent far from it.
After spending some considerable time at Disney’s “The Legend of Captain Jack Sparrow” I realized that a Pirate’s Life is based on two priorities: Redistribution of Treasure. Rum. That’s it. Oh, and perhaps a dalliance with a pretty lassie from time to time. Or wench, as the case may be. Not that much difference from politics today.
Perhaps if our current lot of people’s representatives would don beaded dreadlocks and black eyeliner and speak to us with a tad more charm, we’d all be happy to acquiesce with all their demands.
With trillions in debt and more trillions coming, my intuition tells me we’ve already gone off the cliff, no matter what pretty words they use.
As for us? We’ll keep on keeping on in 2013 the best we know how. And at the risk of being uninformed of that which I cannot control, I’ll be tuning out more consistently I’ve decided. For at this point, I’m going politically AWOL, unless our politicians utter the true crisis words of Captain Jack Sparrow:
But why is the rum gone?
Until then–as you were, mate! Savvy?