Even though Halloween has passed, there are plenty of scary things afoot. Like the polarized state of the nation, the Commonwealth, and our city in the upcoming election on November 6.
Driving by one of the many political yard signs on Breckenridge Lane, I was reminded of an experience a few years back that haunts me as the 2012 campaigning comes to an end..
I was volunteering at the Kentucky Democratic Party booth at the Kentucky State Fair and having a blast. Met a few Dems, young and old, from surrounding counties, got to grip and grin with farmers, journalists, veterans, parents, teachers and others. You know, chewing the fat, shooting the breeze – all in all, bolstering one another with goals and opportunities for the Commonwealth as well as the nation.
Some opinions were stronger than others, a few laughs, some serious notes of concern – all were met with open minds and from time to time, an ear or a shoulder for some objectivity.
I made it a point to wander through the wing and visit other political booths. I had an informative chat with reps from Rand Paul’s camp as well as a few other independents and Republican tables.
After handing out fliers, bumper stickers, and other informative materials at the Dems booth, I was ready to end my shift when a dark-haired, well-put-together woman in red approached my table. She stood as close as possible and leaned in a little more until her face was directly in front of mine.
I would have shaken her hand but there was no room. She lit a fuse that took only seconds to burn – reporting in staccato fashion, a list of why our nation is on its way to hell in no short order, solely because of Barack Obama and the liberals.
This non-stop rant would be my first taste of the Tea Party and it was toxic.
I didn’t feel compelled to join anything remotely connected to “patriots.” A wonderful term I’d learned as a child.had just been turned inside out. From my stance as a 55 year old voter, she made me fell small, reckless, and ignorant.
Well, I never said one word, no chance All I knew is that I would never have gone to another party or another candidate’s booth – no matter what race, dog catcher to president – and lay into another human being in such a rude, abusive way. Bullying is not a style, it’s a condition.
If she was hoping to influence my vote or encourage me to consider her candidate, this was not going to be a reality. I saw no tools for bringing change, just implements of destruction. She had no manners, compassion, or an original thought that would make her look like anything but a loose cannon. Regurgitated propaganda will never replace the art of conversation or the spirit of debate.
So, what I’m saying is, as you elect a Metro Council representative for District 18, know who or what will be speaking for you and your community before you decide.
As for the red dress, she wore it well. It matched her face perfectly.
This is Cindy Lamb and I approve this post.
