In case of VERY IMPORTANT DECISIONS

“Don’t try to talk politics with me.  I hold very few political opinions and none that I’m willing to discuss.  I don’t care and I care even less for people who think I should.”

The above speech probably sounds familiar to most of you.  It’s mine, an old staple, that I like to pull out and give to strangers in bars, relatives at dinner parties, and unfortunate friends stuck with me on long car trips.  It’s the silver bullet I use to slay the political werewolf inside everyone when I see a full moon rising. 

Political ignorance is bliss.  This is been my policy for years.

But tonight I’m drinking coffee and trying, like everyone else, to get through my Voter Information Guide in anticipation of tomorrow’s “election.”  I say “election” because I’ve heard that there’s one going on.  It’s supposedly pretty important.  Go figure.

My problem is that I live and breathe for art.  Art, religion, and love.  And while I know, yes, on some cerebral level, that political movements and decisions will affect EVERY part of life – including art – I simply have a hard time believing that.  How?  Okay, this is important, I get it.  But HOW?!?

Art will thrive, no matter who is in office.  Art is story, it’s the heart of humanity, it’s the food of the soul.  Art isn’t even restricted by national borders or language barriers.  Art is and was and will be.  Art transcends.  So does religion.  So does love. 
I’m glad for America, yes, I am glad.  I’ve enjoyed my life here very much; I hope America continues to prosper and that she passes into the hands of a wise and caring leader.  But my role in this country has so little do with this wall-building, heartless monster called politics that makes us all grow fur and fangs.  I’m not interested; I’m not.

But more power to you if you are.

I just don’t have the rage.  I don’t have the burning need to fix this system.  I think it’s broken; I think those that have the gift of understanding the mess should sort it out.  Please do.  But that person isn’t me.  It’s like reading an electrical map of the circuitry of a New York City block.  I can’t read that.  But I’m glad there are electricians who can.

I can, however, read other maps.  Maps of story.  Maps of the heart and soul.  And those are the maps to which I’ll devote my time and study.  

So will I vote tomorrow?  Probably.  I’ll vote on everything I’m inclined to vote on.  If I arrive at the polls and nothing seems right to me…well, then, I guess I’ll go home. 

I'll leave it to others to howl at the moon.