As Election Day draws near we hear and see its approach, not so much like a sprinter rushing on, his feet pummeling the ground, driving on with his heart for a victory. No; more like a metaphorically angry locomotive; billowing toxic black coal smoke as it pounds away down the steel tracks; probably laid there by some underpaid slave of a relentless, unforgiving society. The train lumbers on, daring anyone or anything to stand in the way of its detrimental power.

Okay, as you think of the candidates, both local and national, that are running..err..lumbering for office, you probably do not see this metaphor in your mind. Never the less, just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist….. (Or something like that).

This election year, at least on the presidential front, has left many voters, myself included, feeling rather unconvinced and uncertain. Yes, perhaps one vote doesn’t count all that much and maybe won’t really be that important on deciding who will receive this honor of becoming the next person to blame for every problem and natural disaster in the world. And yes, maybe the only job your vote will do is to cancel out the vote of Mickey Mouse. However, the idea and ideology behind voting still stands strong, if the only thing your vote means is that you can stand tall, or maybe hang your head later on, and admit or proclaim that you helped put the candidate you supported into office, that is a good enough reason to vote, for yourself.

Who to vote for though? The person who will say whatever people want to hear, that will bend to the format his fans want him to be in at the time? The one who is also so determined to take this position of power and prestige simply to add it to his portfolio that he will claim anything and denounce anything as well? Or will you vote for the person who has always stood strong, throughout his entire campaign has relied on honesty, outstanding morals and life long beliefs to be his trademark. A person who you know for sure will stand up for what is right, even when people hate him for it, a person you can trust and someone you agree with all the time. ….umm…wait a minute…..I guess we don’t have one of those candidates this election.

I, and my meager blog, like the many newspapers and journalists around the country, will endorse a presidential candidate. In John McCain I find someone I can’t believe entirely in, someone who has been at this political game a long time, and while he is decided and dependable, it’s there, it is just not necessarily on the same side of the fence as I am on some issues. Sarah, his running mate is inexperienced, as she points out again and again, and maybe doesn’t think before she speaks enough, a good person mind you, just not someone I feel I know well enough or someone that knows her own mind well enough for me to want as president quite yet. Her biggest asset is that she is female, though it’s counterbalanced by the fact that she really doesn’t connect well with the undecided female voters. She is the only hard-core republican running in this presidential race though.
Barack Obama, on the other hand, is inexperienced as well, he takes stands on issues but is quick to change his mind if people don’t like what he’s saying, standing for or who he's standing with. He’s a people’s man, determined to make them happy, to make him self look good. He does a good job of it to, unlike former democrats he manages to say just little enough to keep from contradicting his views entirely with different groups that he’s trying to impress. His party’s platform is “Change”, a word and idea that strike a cord in this country that just woke up and discovered it is in a self made crisis. This change is obviously already happening and Barack isn’t going to actually be able to do much about it, he just picked a nifty word to use. Also, I fear, in this democratic “anti-bush” sentiment, Barack and his followers in Washington will, in an attempt to be non-bush-like, destroy all of the good things he has done and all the progress he has made. Yes, though all we hear about are the bad things people blame on Bush, he has done a lot of good as well, just read a history book in a few years.
Obama’s running mate, Joe bidden, is a man who’s biggest asset to Obama is his skin color (not being racist, it’s true though) age and history of liberal politics, though he may be a help to Obama in the campaign, he’s already promised to set quietly and do nothing if elected vice-president.

I was undecided as to which candidate to back, as you can see, but over the last few weeks I see that Obama’s ideas and ideals fall far from where I stand, his smugness and desire to please have also irritated me, I want a president who stands for something even if I can’t agree with him on everything, I want someone who isn’t bent on pleasing and trying to show off and impress people. We have enough celebrities.

McCain in the last few weeks has shown a gritty determination that I can appreciate, he’s stood firm on his decisions and brought forth issues about his opponent that, while one sided of course, are valid points that Obama refuses to address, he (Obama) says many of these points of deception, questionable dealings and instability are from the past and ignores them. To me is seems the past is very important, why should we not consider his past, the past always effects the future. McCain’s past is an open book, he’s stood for what he’s stood for, been a patriot of this country and proved himself. And no, as far as I know at least, McCain never got a medal for shooting himself in the rear like someone else who ran for office not all that long ago.

So, McCain is my man, he’s not perfect but you know where he stands, he has experience in a time when are country needs it and he’s not just about making everyone happy. He’ll do what he knows is right and he’s not a follower, he’s an achiever….a Maverick, if you will.

So go vote for the candidate you want to stand with…..and then vote again. ;)

A grasshopper's Obituary-

The grass, once green and bright was now dehydrated by the rays of the hot summer sun. It was not yet dead, but in an attempt to save itself from perishing it became dry and brown; conserving its diminutive moisture in its roots, hidden deep in the dusty earth. As a gust of wind blew through the weeds, they rubbed together; the rasping sound of their rustling drew little notice. A delivery truck whizzed by, advertising on its side “Ice cold Coca-Cola”, the picture of a bottle, covered with water droplets, presumably from the cooler full of ice water it was just pulled out of, seemed ironic and out of place on the simmering day. As the truck passed the grass bent over a second later it sprang back into place.
Clinging to one especially resilient piece of grass by the road was a large grasshopper, his bulging eyes transfixed, not to where he was, but looking across the road to the small pond, still full of water from some underground spring that had not been affected by the drought. His long legs had taken him a long way, fueled on by his thirst and knowing, with some unexplainable sense, where life reviving water could be found. One last obstacle lay before him; the wide black-top road.
He had crossed this road before and had survived but had seen and heard tell of many others who had been less fortunate. No other choice was to be had though; his only course was to risk it all, to stay away from the water was certain death.
He hopped down to the edge of the road, his energy was waning from his long travels and his lack of water but he had just enough strength, he thought, to make the dash across this life stealing patch of blackness.
He leaped forward, strong legs propelling him onward in high arcs, he wasn’t sure what it was that killed so many of his kind as they crossed these paths but he hoped to avoid it by hopping the highest and longest he could.
About halfway across the road he saw, speeding towards him, an old pickup truck. Anyone could tell it was going to be close. With two leaps left the truck was practically upon him but he still held a small lead. With one last hop it looked as if he would make it; I don’t know if in his haste he didn’t push off hard enough or perhaps his strength finally gave out, we will never know. All that was left of this brave warrior of the grass, this troubadour of courage, was a green slime plastered to the already grimy windshield of an old blue pickup truck. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to die, but then, maybe this is how the old grasshopper would have wanted to go?

Work-

Though work is a subject I wish to avoid, its mere implication, on these few hours I am away from it, bring back the dread feelings of the exhaustion I have experienced as of late. However, I continue to find aspects of my job amusing, the employees I best get along with rather ironic and the assumptions people make about me humorous.

I’m probably the youngest person working in the store I manage, possibly one of our waitresses is younger than me but that is all. Even so, none of those in my employ have any idea of my true age, from what I gather the majority of them believe me to be somewhere between 26-30 years old, few would guess my true age. I will let them assume what they wish. I still find it hard to adjust though, I feel odd telling someone 30 years older than me and with 25 years more experience what to do and how to do it; I’m right in what I tell them to do but it’s still awkward, in that comical sort of way.

Pondering....

You know that strange phenomenon, where two people are walking in opposite directions down the sidewalk, or in an aisle in the Chinese imports store, and as you near the other person you both begin to doubt on which side the bypass should be made?
The other day I was walking through said import store, contemplating mysteries of the universe and also trying to decide whether I should purchase a salad or frozen pizza for dinner. As I walked down an aisle contemplating these meaningful life decisions I encountered a lady moving in the opposite direction down the same aisle. We were both moving at a superb rate, right at each other. I, in my customary gentlemanlike behavior, decided to let her decide which side to pass on and let her make the first move to avoid a collision. Unfortunately, she must have been a feminist at heart who couldn’t bear to let me be a gentleman without a fight. At what seemed like the last moment I decided to abandon my illusionary character and made the first move, side stepping to avoid her; at the same moment she gave into her femininity and also moved to the side; the same side as I had chosen. Luckily both of our brakes seemed to work well and we managed to stop ourselves with a good foot to spare from a life ending impact.
Though this not only proved that women just inflict problems for us men, it also caused an embarrassing situation as we both did a little dance trying to get around each other, which we eventually did.
I don’t know if there is a prescribed name for these aisle dance encounters, other than “awkward” of course, but as I walked away I wondered why they didn’t happen more often. Then it came to me; normally when walking in stores we use the same set of rules as those used on roads and highways, we normally walk on the right hand side of the sidewalk or aisle we are traversing on. Of course, this would also make perfect sense because aisle dances, like care accidents, are normally caused by women……just kidding of course.
I wonder though, how and on which side of the aisle and sidewalk to people pass each other on in European countries that carry a different set of driving rules? Do foreigners who visit these countries cause confusion when they walk as well as talk perhaps? I wonder if there are more human collisions with foreigners, both for us and them. I don’t know where to find such awe inspiring studies though, I’m sure some college somewhere has deemed this a worthwhile subject to inquire upon with our tax dollars via a government grant but I can’t seem to locate it. If you find it let me know.

Watching the elderly man as he stepped gingerly forward on legs, it seems, he put little trust in, shaking as if they could unexpectedly buckle at any moment. On his face, not weathered but still showing its age, was a look of concentration as he gazed before him at his goal. A moment later he stumbled forward and with all his might swung his arm, the weight he lifted in his hand was released at his aim; it was easy to see his aim was still true. He faltered and nearly fell over as his precarious balance was momentarily lost, but alas, he caught himself. All the while his eyes followed the path of his weapon, of sorts, as it glided on to the target. It proved excellent, smashing in to it with a resounding thud and bringing a brief smile to the old man's face and congratulations from his eager comrades. STRIKE!