good government…

Warning: political rant with no redemptive, insightful ending in sight…no call to action…no potential solution. Proceed with caution.


You can’t beat crazy. You just can’t. Crazy will make the news every single time. Crazy will trump truth and facts and all kinds of things. You can’t beat crazy.

All sides of the political reality show we call the 2012 elections do it. They look for the crazy. They look for the worst case scenario. They look for the guy who preaches hate and bile on youtube. They look for the little known fact and past girlfriends and then they advertise the hell out of it.

It’s not a new tactic. My daughter tells me that in her American History studies this year she’s run across tactics like this in elections from nearly the start of our teenager nation. We did this in the cradle; mud slinging, crazy making.

When my boys fight it makes me mental. They fight over everything.


They fight over half eaten biscuits and scraps of paper. They fight over who sits in the front seat of the car. They fight over who gets to tell me the funny story they all just heard on television. When the cacophony gets too loud I leave the room. When the cacophony follows me no matter where I go and there is no escape I send them all to timeout.

Three couches. Three boys. Three butts. No talking.

I’d like to send the candidates to time out. I’d like to send the media to time out. I know I’m not alone in my weary of the world of politics. It’s too easy to just throw my hands up with “They’re all like this! What’s the use of trying?” It’s a little too easy and a lot ineffective.

Mark Twain once said, “A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.” This, friends, is what drives that search for the crazy. The wild and weird makes the news where politics is concerned because it’s a fast runner and we like action. We’d much rather whisper about the scandal. We’d much rather hear about the wacky pastors and the KKK and the mysterious birth certificate than fiscal behaviors and civil rights voting histories. The crazy makes for good television. You know what it doesn’t make?

Good government.

*end rant*



I wish I had and I hope I do…

I’d love to say that I typically spend the last day of the year looking back and reflecting upon the many blessings, trials and occurences of the previous 12 months. I think this would be an excellent habit. I do have friends who have this habit. They are very together people and I like them a whole lot. I find I am way too scattered for this. And then I think, well maybe if I developed a habit of reflection on the last day of the year I would not be so scattered. It sounds good, in theory and certainly I can’t recommend my current method of scrambling and then feeling bad about it later.

This often leaves me with a number of “I wish I hads.”  I wish I had kept my temper better. I wish I had eaten well. I wish I had remembered to pay the gas bill. I wish I had taken the Tupperware off the stove before turning it on.

“I wish I had” is a nearly useless statement. Regret has its place, certainly but sitting here, on the edge of 2012, feet dangling and looking into the abyss before me I know that carrying a list of regrets from the wide expanse of land behind me isn’t going to make my flight off the edge into a new year any less dangerous or any more enjoyable.

Making resolutions seems to be the natural response to “I wish I had” but being “resolved” feels like a lot of weight too. Resolution is a pair of big heavy iron shoes stomping all over the landscape. I don’t think that the edge of the unknown needs me stomping into its crevices, feet first.  Instead, I’ll begin 2012 with “I hope I do…”

I hope I do more to love people

I hope I keep my temper

I hope I remember how loved I am

I hope I am always aware of the beauty around me

“I hope I do” is a great winged suit, ready to fly. It is not without danger. Hope is its own reward, always present tense, always in the moment. For 2012, let’s be here and do this, shall we?