Sometimes I feel sorry for my son, and not because I write about him on my blog. Girl’s got to write, and in general, I think he comes out looking pretty good. No, I feel sorry for him because his parents are geeks.
We live just outside of D.C., which means we are not only bathed in politics, our son goes to school with the children of political figures, or relatives of political figures. My son really hates car pools. He says it’s because it takes too long to get home, but I think it’s because he’s afraid that I will jump into a debate with his friends when they are repeating things that aren’t based on fact. Especially when they diss my Prius. Do not diss the Prius when you are sitting in it.
The other night at dinner, he relayed a conversation where a friend explained a speaking gaffe made by a political relative. We told him that all politicians make gaffes. They say stupid things while speaking off the cuff and then get called on it, which I don’t particularly care about (and there is a big difference between things people could have said better, and things people say when they think no one is listening). It’s a red herring. What matters is what they stand for and what they are going to do in office.
We could have left it at that, but noooooo. We had to digress into a long discussion of policy, the importance of the supreme court, and the politics of gender, which culminated in an exchange between my husband and I that sounded like an argument even though we were basically agreeing with each other and my assertion that (name of political figure in question) was too interested in my (name for private part I won’t offend people in Michigan by using) and needed a new hobby.
Any lesson we intended to impart to our son was washed away by my use of the word (name for private part I won’t offend people in Michigan by using).
This happens a lot. He’ll bring up a topic, and we’ll say “Ooh! There was this great article on this in the Economist!.” I look at his face, and I know what he’s thinking–Why don’t they ever mention some great article they read in Sports Illustrated? That, I could care about.
He says it doesn’t matter, because he can’t vote anyway. I told him it matters because our vote today will effect what his tomorrow looks like. So, when Tuesday rolls around, vote. Whatever your point of view, vote. And if you’re undecided, let me know, and I’ll set aside a couple of hours. There’s this great article in the Economist I can tell you about.
Words by J. B. Everett
Photograph by Kristin Ausk © 2008 Creative Commons