Who are we now?

August 03, 2011 by barbara

barbara writes

For the past week, nearly all my waking hours (and no small number of supposed sleeping hours) have been invaded by thoughts of Washington, DC. You, too, I imagine, since you’re here, reading this.

As I spin myself into the ground like a crazed corkscrew on a daily basis, I realize that my list of things about which I’m furious is now longer than a Jim Thome home run. And yeah, the Twins have made my list, too.

Pick a topic. Any topic.

Blatant racism. Bully politics. Slimy schemers. Mitch McConnell’s face. John Boehner’s tears. Blue Dog Democrats. "Real" Democrats. Shrill Obama loyalists. Shrill Obama attackers. Tea, which I will never drink again. Maybe. Rich people. Lawyers. Legislators. Legislators. Legislators. Barack Obama and the horse he rode in on (on which he rode into the presidency). Crappy faux journalism. Promises broken. Tight shoes. Bridge in the Mississippi. Michele Bachmann. Milk that sours before its expiration date. Geese that poop on my patio. Which brings me full circle to the radical right’s dangerous Tea Partiers.

I had coffee with friends today, which spilled over into lunchtime. And at one point, I heard my own thought coming out of someone else’s mouth.

“I just feel sad,” she said.

Oh, yeah. Sad. I get that. I really, truly get that.

Now y’all know I can morph into righteous indignation in a heartbeat. But what I can’t seem to mitigate against this week is my consuming sadness about my country. The one some pundits have been likening lately to a banana republic. The United States of America, in thrall to a band of reprehensible terrorists who have held our government and 300 million people hostage for the past several weeks.

And this has happened on the watch of my president – our president. The guy I (along with others) busted my butt to get elected because he said he could make things better. Granted, he was (as we are fond of saying) dealt a losing hand from the get-go. And no one with even a shred of optimism or hope ever dreamed or nightmared this kind of catastrophic unraveling that has culminated with the USA perched on the brink of economic and social disaster. Hyperbolic? Actually, not so much.

And who’s to blame? I can’t take that on today. I’m just too discouraged and too sad. And there you have it.

Posted in