I’m plagued with ennui, I’ll admit it. Three weeks since the election and I still can’t focus on any single thing. In the past week, I’ve distracted myself with genealogy research, a friending frenzy on Facebook, and started reading yet another history book (in addition to The Shaping of America: A Geographical Perspective on 500 Years of History, Vol. 1, Atlantic America, 1492-1800 that I’ve been picking at for the past three months). Now I’m reading Night Comes to the Cumberlands by Harry Caudill, something I was supposed to read 25+ years ago in a sociology class but never quite got around to (raising the question once again, how did I manage to graduate?). I don’t know why I didn’t read it—it’s actually kind of interesting.
In the past three weeks I’ve cleaned the kitchen stove and cupboards, the washer and dryer, the floors, the bathroom. Helped rake semi-frozen, wet leaves. Counted the dead deer on my way to work each morning (four, and one appears to be headless). Celebrated Obama’s election a couple of times, most recently with beer. Removed the dry leaves, one at a time, off the bittersweet branches that are in two vases. Planted some mums. Felt slightly crafty but not enough to launch into a full-fledged project, such as sewing curtains.
I’ve not paid as much attention to the news. I’m fairly certain I don’t need to, that the same storylines will be there tomorrow: Will Congress bail out the auto industry? Is Obama’s transition team getting all sloppy with leaks? Is Bush the lamiest of lame ducks?
I am untethered, no longer bound to any campaign except my own. (Which I keep forgetting about. I’m supposed to run for office in the Pigspittle Dems party and because someone else is also vying for the position, I have to actually campaign. I think I have a mental block.)
I never ever in a million years would have thought that I would say this but I’m going to: I miss canvassing. Yes, I miss walking up to strangers’ doors and intruding on their Saturday afternoons with pesky questions about their voting preference. I miss it. I do. I miss the incomprehensible Google maps. I miss discovering new roads and getting just a little lost. I miss the unpredictable public and their quirky welcome mats and cobweb-masked houses.
So I get an email from David Plouffe today asking me if I’d host a “Change is Coming” house party. Do I dive in again? What kind of change could we bring to Pigspittle? It’s tempting. Very tempting. Seriously. Especially if it involves canvassing.
Just checking into Pigspittle again. It’s been a while. Beautiful, just beautiful, M.
Funny. I walked by the OSU Obama office tonight after a couple of hours at Sullivant Library, where I study to get away from the house and focus. It was empty; you’d never know just a month ago it was just the most hip-happn’in place. I hung out there quite a bit the last two weeks (to the detriment of my current grad school ills). And we did it. I’m happy BO is in, but I’m certainly just a little more than anxious. I think maybe I, too, will clean the stove (underneath the lid, where all the spilled stuff falls) soon.
Love, Jake.
Thanks so much, Jake. Pigspittle Dems HQ is empty and cold too. I thought you would be out there working on the campaign–no grad school work could keep you from it! Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.
Vote Meg: Abortions for Some, Tiny American Flags for Others!
Hey, it worked for Kang & Kodos.