Political ads already sending listeners running for relief
Just when you thought it was safe to go into the water, another political year rolls in like some rogue wave smashing against the shoreline.
We are all weary of the talking heads on television analyzing every important issue such as a candidate’s position on sewer management or whether or not Mitt Romney is wearing “Not Your Daughter’s Jeans.” And we are not even close to the rubber-chicken dinners and down-home barbecues yet.
But there are some areas of agreement within the population, no matter what your party affiliation. Healthcare is going to be a major focus during this presidential quest. Not so much the actual benefits, but just the fact that we live in a country where you can present yourself at the nearest emergency room suffering from extreme nausea and vomiting from all the political commercials, and your insurance will cover the cost, even waiving your deductible.
That’s right. Even Medicare will pay full coverage from an injury or accident based on a person fleeing their home to get away from the political advertisements. Broken legs, sharp instruments poked in the eyes, allergic rashes, whatever might present itself in jumping out of windows or throwing yourself out the door, as long as it involves political rhetoric, they will pay and probably even give you a housing allowance to move to another state.
If it happens to be a political debate-related injury, I think an insurance company will throw in a set of matching dinner glasses and a free gas fill-up for your car when you leave the hospital. You can’t beat that.
That phones have already started ringing with pleas for money; not that we shouldn’t be involved in the political process either, but the telemarketers always call just about the time you’ve finished up on your second job and have paid the last installment of your tuition bill, with dreams of finally getting a new pair of shoes, as the holes in the soles of the only ones you are currently wearing are starting to look like part of the design of a large Mason jar.
Perhaps the worst of them, although, is the recorded message. How intimate is that? It’s like giving someone a paperweight for their birthday.
Here the message says, hey, I didn’t have time to personally contact you, so therefore you should vote for me anyway. In reality, most people would vote for the candidates if they guaranteed not to leave a recorded message.
You can’t blame the candidates, though. It must be tough to run for office today. You would have to have the skin of an iguana to put up with all the name-calling, which is now disguised as gravitas and referred to as the truth.
On the other hand, there are those candidates who really shouldn’t be running. People often wonder why these candidates continue to run when their poll numbers suggest they could barely come in second in a race for dogcatcher.
Again, I really don’t believe it is their fault. Somewhere down the line they’ve come to assume, if there is an election, they must declare and become a candidate for that election. I think this theory has its roots in those who were named in kindergarten as monitor of the Valentine’s Day card box.
It was always this person who presided over the little slot that the others placed their cards into and later, after presenting the teacher with an apple, was able to distribute cards that said, “Be my little buckaroo.”
Whatever your affiliation, and you will be affiliated this year, the time has come to recognize that most pharmacies will slash the prices of pain medications like Advil and Bayer aspirin. I think it was Tip O’Neill who said, “All politics are local,” or was it loco?
