BACK INTO THE YEAR
The High Holidays are over, and I'm back in my office, dealing with 36 hours worth of voice mail and email from frantic clients. Fires have been extinguished, reassurances have been given, appointments have been set up, stuff has been mailed out. The world continues to roll on at its pre-holiday pace. I always feel strange, stepping in and out of the regular-world dimension and the other-world dimension. This year, instead of my usual holiday greeting, I have been telling my friends "I hope next year is better." After a tsunami, two hurricanes and an earthquake on the global level, plus major illness and recovery on the personal level, that kind of makes sense.
On the other hand, for once I can be really pragmatically glad not to be a Republican. This year has been really bad for them. Some of it is pure James Fraser-style folk politics. James Fraser, author of the anthropological classic "Golden Bough", tells us that back in the good old days, when a tribe had a bad crop or a famine or really awful weather, they would take the chief out in the field and stone him to death, because the chief was responsible for keeping the gods happy on behalf of his tribe. I still remember back in 1979, when Michael Bilandic was mayor of Chicago and we had a horrendous series of snowstorms that left most of the city buried. And the hapless mayor went on TV saying there was no parking or traffic problem. We Chicagoans had no problem voting him out of office, though we were nice enough not to throw rocks at him first. Presumably Bush has the Secret Service to protect him from outraged natives, but the election is getting to look ominous. May this year be better than last.
On the other hand, for once I can be really pragmatically glad not to be a Republican. This year has been really bad for them. Some of it is pure James Fraser-style folk politics. James Fraser, author of the anthropological classic "Golden Bough", tells us that back in the good old days, when a tribe had a bad crop or a famine or really awful weather, they would take the chief out in the field and stone him to death, because the chief was responsible for keeping the gods happy on behalf of his tribe. I still remember back in 1979, when Michael Bilandic was mayor of Chicago and we had a horrendous series of snowstorms that left most of the city buried. And the hapless mayor went on TV saying there was no parking or traffic problem. We Chicagoans had no problem voting him out of office, though we were nice enough not to throw rocks at him first. Presumably Bush has the Secret Service to protect him from outraged natives, but the election is getting to look ominous. May this year be better than last.
posted by WiredSisters at 10:35 AM
1 Comments:
Yeah, I remember '79, too. I didn't get my buried car back until the beginning of April...about the time I was voting in the primaries for one of Bilandic's opponents. Don't remember if it was for Jane Byrne or not--in those days I just as often vote for off-beat candidates.
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