The Candidate Who Came to Dinner

The same blizzard that welcomed John F. Kennedy to our highest office welcomed me to this world. At the time, people worried that putting a Catholic in the White House was a huge mistake. Washington would be controlled by Rome, and Kennedy would be nothing more than the Pope’s pawn. Pretty soon we’d all be packing Rosaries and banned from eating meat on Fridays. This silliness amazed me.

I don’t want to be amazed like that anymore. Now we have a woman and an African American running for office, and some people running to cover their ugly, deep-set fears with flimsy excuses. Look deep - if you’re voting against (or for) someone simply because of gender or race, you need therapy, not a voting booth.

Honestly, I don’t want to know what a candidate does at home, how bad a bowler he is, or whether she can kick back shots with the guys. At what point do we finally say, “I don’t care if the next President of the United States is a transgender mandrill – somebody give me a shot at a decent life?”

The candidates confuse the issue more by pandering to our base commonality. “I’m one of you,” they purr. No, you’re not, and we’re happy about that. We could never survive the rat race that is Washington. We’re hoping one of you can.

Sometimes private choices give you a peek at what a candidate's future intentions might be. For instance, did they marry for money? If that’s the case, maybe that candidate will marry big oil. Gas is quickly approaching $4 a gallon – at what price ignorance? But at least he’s white, you may think, if not say. If we decide one of the most critical elections using racist or sexist bias, we deserve what we get. If we can’t look beyond looks, we are most certainly doomed.

Has it really come down to which is less worse – a woman in the White House, or a black man in the White House? Are we really that shallow? This is the part where you yell, ‘No!’ Unless, of course, you're uncomfortable with a woman telling you what to do. If that's the case, I hope you enjoy cereal for dinner, because after paying for gas, that's about all you'll be able to afford.

False issues cloud the real deal like so many messy snowflakes. But I will tell you one thing -this candidate WILL be coming to dinner. The next President will decide how often you have a nice steak, or have to settle for a cheaper cut of meat. Picking the President based on primordial fears may be the cut that gives you indigestion.

Choose wisely– you may have to eat your vote. And that's no bologna.

I'm In, Imus, I'm Out

"Nappy headed ho." Such cute syllables, almost singsong baby talk until you look at their history, their meaning, their meanness. Combined with the context, the timing, the reality... almost the perfect storm.

Why? What made that comment seem necessary, apropos or amusing to anyone at any time? I'm not a fan of being politically correct, but whoa. A true journalist wouldn't think of saying something so inept and inaccurate. A shock jock would have chosen an easier victim. So in this case, did stupidity rule? Ignorance is bliss until youtube gets ahold of you.

It's a mixed blessing - at least this issue came out so it can be discussed. The sad side is that this type of commentary is a daily occurence in many lives. And even more think it without voicing it.

After the initial shock, I started to notice that so many called this a racist issue. Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson were right on it. NAACP squawked immediately. But few mentioned the sexism. Feminist groups chimed in, but I wish they had the anger and fierceness of Al et al. If they did they'd risk being considered nasty overly aggressive bulldogs. The irony of feminism is that to appeal to potential converts, you must often walk a dainty line yet carry a fierce schtick. Remember Mel Gibson's alcohol-induced honesty? His anti-Semitic comments grossly outpaced the weight of 'sugartits.'

Does it matter what you noticed first? Yes and no. Does it make you think? Hopefully. The most interesting part of this issue is our own reactions. It's like a Chinese menu and shows us more about our culture, or lack thereof.

Imus was wrong because:

• the Rutgers team doesn't have 'nappy' hair
• he said mean things that hurt people
• he said things that he should have only thought
• he can't say 'nappy' because he's not black
• he's not funny enough to get away with slurs like that
• he's ugly and stupid

Leave Imus alone because:

• he holds fundraisers for charities
• he lets Democrats talk, and old white Republican fence-sitters listen
• he's just saying what people wanna say but can't
• he's a harmless old fool
• he's ugly and stupid

Imus is Robin Hood, Everyman, and a sad, ignorant ass all rolled into one. Sixty years ago, Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier. Amazingly, that barrier, and many more, are still here. But why even categorize the comments and barriers at all? When do we get to be simply shocked that someone called someone else such a nasty name? When do color, sex, religion cease to matter?

So many insults, so little crime. After the dust settled, Imus was asked what he had learned. "I've learned that there are some people you can't make fun of." What a crappy-headed schmoe.