There’s something strange in the neighborhood…
…and it’s called Sarah Palin’s sudden and fiercely loyal fan-base.
I didn’t have a particular desire to bring politics into this writing space, but it’s become so strange that I can’t help but write about it. What’s really causing the brunt of my confusion lately is this whole “Sarah Palin” thing. She went from relative anonymity to a strange representation of what a social and fiscal conservative should be. It’s very curious how much energy she’s brought to an otherwise lackluster campaign for John McCain, but it’s even more curious that those who have jumped on the bandwagon are so ready to support her while burying their heads in the sand about some very clear facts:
1. She’s not fiscally conservative.
2. Her social conservatism only extends to her household, not her politics.
3. She knowingly pandered.
4. She’s blatantly lied about her involvement in busting up big oil.(note the date where Palin got involved: after it was taken care of by the FBI)
5. While her husband may be a union member, her allegiances don’t follow.
While this should make conservative republican voters upset, it has really just caused reason for irrational support and defense of this choice. This leaves me in quite a conundrum: why on earth are so many people sticking their head in the sand about this nomination rather than facing the fact (which often include their own arguments). I’m left with very few ways to think about this. Are they really this desperate to prevent Barack Obama from taking office? Maybe they’re just being driven by the wrong body parts… Whatever the case, I’m left very confused by such a poor pick and rather upset that so many are willing to become hypocrites to defend her case when they should be just as upset.
Maybe we’ve really just gotten so lost in politics that people care more about winning than who it is they push across the finish line first.
The Buddha Rock
Back in high school a friend of mine, Tom, and I used to go to Franklin Park and hang out at a place we called “the Buddha Rock”. It’s an old bridge pylon that’s no longer connected to anything, but I imagine used to be a part of the railroad that ran through the area. Now it’s just a massive slab of concrete sitting in a secluded part of the park, just inside of White Lick Creek. It had it’s name long before I started going there, and today it finally made sense to me. I thought they always called it that because it was a place where people would light up. Today, however, I came to realize that it was a place of zen when I rode my bike down to the park and sat on the rock reading a book. It’s just secluded enough to provide isolation from the modern world. Outside of the fact it’s an enormous slab of concrete, and excluding a nearby bridge and fence, it’s pretty much in nature without interruption. The creek flowing around it also cancels out the noise from the town, so there’s no constant drum of traffic. The only noises were the stream and the steady resonant sound of a baseball being hit by an aluminum bat. That’s where I sat until I finished reading “A horse and his boy” before packing up and heading home.
The experience was nostalgic, and my senses were overwhelmed by memories that each of them contained. The air today had a certain smell to it that comes with the onset of late summer and early fall. It’s the smell of the new school year; only, this year, I’m not going back to school. It’s a little hard to grow up and realize that there’s no going back. No matter how sweet that smell is to my soul, it ends a little depressing. Then there was the cool, crisp breeze that says harvest season is just around the corner. Pretty soon scarves will be out, and bonfires will be lit. Those things will go with me to the grave, undoubtedly. I’ve always enjoyed the feel of the fall breeze. It’s a reprieve from the oppressive late summer heat, and it’s much more comfortable than the often intolerably cold Indiana winters. It never lasts long, so I try to enjoy it as much as possible (a primary reason for my journey today). There’s also a crazy phenomenon I’ve noticed ever since I was little: the fall sky is much bluer than any other season. Winter here tends to be gray and orange, the spring is often cloudy, and summer is so hazy it’s hard to tell whether it’s sunny or overcast. Fall, however, brings out the most brilliant blue sky and every year I stand in wonder of how it could exist otherwise. Today was one of those rare days, and I couldn’t help but stare at it. You can also tell when fall is coming because the insect noise starts to die away and is replaced by rustling leaves in the cool breeze. It was no exception today. The last sensation has yet to be fully addressed, and it won’t be today, but taste is another brilliant part of the oncoming season. Who can deny that the fall spices are the best? (probably a lot of people, but keep your opinions to yourselves! This is my journey down memory lane!) Soccer season was always made better with hot chocolate and apple cider, and then there is the smell of newly harvested hay and corn, and of course there are amazing things like pumpkin pie and cinnamon which make it all the better.
With all of that, I welcome the fall and hope that I can make the most of it. It’s a bit what I imagine Heaven to be, in all honesty. It’s a time for homecoming, for family, for coming together with friends, and for new beginnings. It’s a time to celebrate (the most holiday-filled season of the year!) and to enjoy nature without having to worry about the quality of the air or whether or not it’s going to rain all week (unless, of course, your on the southeast coast…) I pray that whomever reads this can enjoy their fall and can make the most of it. It only comes once a year, and you only get so many of those.
Pop-up Elevators
So, today’s lunch was eventful, and my colleague Beth published an entry about it. Instead of writing about it myself, I’ll post what she published and add my own commentary to it in bold.
“As background, I work in a pretty old building. It’s like 100 years old and on some kind of register of historic buildings of downtown Indy. (Maybe I’ll research that and update this post.){Keep that in mind. I swear it will make my reaction a little bit more understandable. You should probably also know that they’ve been tinkering with the elevators. A lot.}
So, my colleague Josh and I just walked to Giorgio’s to pick up lunch (mmm, beef calzone!){and cheese pizza, of course} Back in the building, we pop onto one of the elevators (recently redecorated), but we never get to the fourth floor. It stopped on the third. Now, it’s a pretty slow elevator, and I’ve noticed lately that the doors open even more slowly than they used to.{have I mentioned that they’ve been tinkering with it a lot?} So, my first thought is that someone is getting on at 3.{Mine was that the elevator was stuck. But then again, I think this every time it stops. Call me paranoid.} But the doors never open, and the elevator is dead still. Josh and I look at each other and aren’t sure what to do. I push “door open” a couple of times, then the 4 button a couple of times and then decide we need some outside help.{while I try to open the doors manually. All I really did was leave a hand smudge on them…}
The great news is that the Push to Call button actually works! It plays a recording that we’re being connected to a call center and then a live human is on the line! {and they weren’t in India!} Hooray! She says she’s sending help, so Josh and I settle down on the floor for lunch. All I can think is “thank goodness I used the bathroom before we left for lunch!” {and all I can think is “dear God, please don’t let the elevator fall…”}
However, my calm is short-lived, since Josh begins citing information from a Mythbusters show I remember seeing a year or so ago. (The title of the episode was “Elevator of Death.” This does not bode well.) Apparently, a fall from the fourth floor is the “basic limit of survivability”{my term} and Josh outlines that we are on the third floor, but there is a basement, so we are just at the edge of that limit of survivability.{I could easily win Jeopardy. “Alex, what is four stories. I’d like “How Far” for four hundred please.} There’s lots of discussion about how best to position ourselves (we actually ended up rotating so our legs were parallel to the door but we were opposite each other. This way, Josh explains, my head will fall one way and his will fall another and we won’t bang into each other or the side walls. {Because, you see, the force is displaced along a greater surface and then it will be less likely to kill is if it falls… heh… heh…}
Finally (seemed like forever, but was less than 10 minutes), the maintenance guy knocks on the door and asks if we’re stuck. Well, duh! He says he’s going to the roof to turn off the power.{it was actually the basement} It’s only after he’s gone that I wonder aloud, “What happens when the elevator is turned off?” Josh attempts to flatten himself closer to the floor to lessen the impact.{true story}
Eventually, we end up on the first floor, and the guy waiting for the elevator looks perplexed that we’re sitting on the floor with our lunches half-consumed. We beat a hasty retreat and were shocked that the guy actually got on the elevator.
We would have taken the stairs, but the door was locked. So we took the other elevator and made it safely back to our officese.” {I thought it would collapse that time too…}
All of that said, it was an eventful lunch time that really put me face to face with my mortality and my vast knowledge of useless facts. Turns out they were slightly useful for once.