Me the People

I'm not much for politics.  I don't have the heart for it, or the stomach for that matter.   I bet if I had a blood pressure monitor on between now and Election Day, my blood pressure readings would alternate between Damn Girl/Simmer Down and WTF/OMG.

I like it when people agree with me, and, although I respect differing viewpoints (truly), I admit I tend to go through life thinking that whatever views I have are shared by everyone else.  Now, don't get me wrong, it's not that I even think I'm right on most issues.  I just generally come from a "I like you, you like me, I like pizza, you like pizza too!" philosophy, and then when I hear you don't like pizza, it blows my mind.  How could you not like pizza???  Who ARE you???

Now, feel free to take "pizza" and substitute it with a word of your choosing, like puppies, or babies, or freedom, or equality, or Impractical Jokers, airing Thursday nights at 10 p.m. on TruTV.  (Seriously, that show is hilarious.)

I just don't like dissent.  As many can attest, I think even the most gentlemanly debates are agita-producing, and uncomfortable.  I don't understand debate for debate's sake.  I once actually developed an ulcer while two friends (you know who you are) debated probability at a dive bar one Friday night.  I actually felt it happening.   It's not their fault; just my own allergy to conflict.

I suppose it's related to my control freak nature.  If we disagree, that means I've lost control of you and the situation, and well, that does not compute.  This won't do at all.

So, except during major elections, like the Presidential race, I stay out of it.  I am really and truly ignorant.  And I like it that way.  Unfortunately, my week off this summer fell during the Republican National Convention, and, having not planned anything major, this left me free to monitor every detail, and all of a sudden I was all riled up and into this election.  I watched the Democratic Convention with equal gusto.  I was disheartened by the lack of women and ethnic diversity -- better on the Democratic side, but still lacking.  At the rate we are at currently, research says we won't achieve parity for women in Congress for 70 more years.  Even more disturbing, assuming we keep the current pace, we won't achieve parity for women in corporate leadership ranks for another 500 years.

So I started to think, "Why not me?  Why can't I be President?"  Well, for one thing, I don't photograph well.  That will hurt me.  Look what happened with Nixon.  And my main platform, "Less hydrants, more parking," wouldn't fly outside of the major cities, and may alienate the firefighter vote, not to mention the critical Dalmatian endorsement.

But seriously, I'm just not sure I'd ever feel like I KNEW enough to be President.  That clearly hasn't stopped people before, but, the older I get, the more I'm like, "Seriously, someone could be 35 and be President of this country?  Of America?  The greatest country in the world?  Maybe we want to raise that up a bit.  To 10 years older than whatever age I am at this moment."  Put that right into the Constitution.  I have a friend at the National Archives; I bet she could just write that in by hand.  35 once seemed damn old to me, but now, not so much.  I mean, Dawson from Dawson's Creek is 35 now.

I guess, what does it really mean to be President anyway?  You have to be smart enough to surround yourself with good people, hopefully people smarter than you are, who know what you don't know, which, if you're like me, is probably a lot.  And you have to like being in charge.

I like being in charge.  I actually often take charge when I'm not supposed to.  Like on the subway, I'm always the person people look to for directions.  Having worked years running events, I pretty much can't attend an event without meddling in some way; so if I have any connection at all to an event, if a friend is running it or I know the organization, I'll go into the kitchen and tell everyone to quiet down if noise is disrupting the program.  They're probably thinking, "Who the Hell is that?" but they quiet down.  I can't help it.  And some of you will remember how I took charge of a stranger's vagina by recommending feminine hygiene supplies.  I'm not afraid to step up when it matters.  Or when it doesn't matter one bit.

It's almost like a disease, I tell you.

It's also exhausting.

The problem with being in charge is, well, once you're in charge, you kinda own that role for life.  Everyone sees you in that light and it becomes a huge part of your self-identity, so instinctual that it's totally against the grain and counterintuitive to take a backseat.  Whether positive -- capable, can-do, she'll get the job done -- or negative - meddling, controlling, bossy --  it's hard to give up the mantle even when you want to.  It disrupts the balance.  You can't have passengers without a driver.

Somebody has to be in charge.

But maybe, just maybe, it doesn't have to be me.  Maybe I can decline the nomination.

But I like being the leader of the Len Party, even on the days when it seems a little overwhelming and I feel maxed out.   I think I need to learn to rely on people more, you know, build a stronger cabinet.  Find me a good second in command, who doesn't really mind being second in command most of the time, but is more than happy to be Commander in Chief should I be unable to perform my duties, like say, a Real Housewives of New York marathon is on.  And take more breaks.  Taking breaks is good.  Even the President gets to go to Camp David. 

Make less promises, kiss more babies.  Sleep more, work less.  Choose battles carefully.

Sounds like a platform to win on.