Joe is our current leader out of 22 candidates. He is the macaroni salad at the potluck – familiar and you’ll eat it if it makes grandma happy but your heart lies with that juicy, piquant quinoa tabouli a couple of bowls over. We are so afraid of Donald winning again that we are willing to put aside the quinoa and let the mayo slither down our throats if that’s what it takes. We all think macaroni salad is what our neighbors want, but do they?
yrmama arrived at Big Grove 30 minutes early and self-consciously forsook a tempting chair in the ADA pen with a clear sightline to the podium for a chair she carried over next to the ADA pen. “See? I am so able-bodied that I brought a chair over here by myself.” (read the medical postscript below for more information) Three large college girls with enormous backpacks stood right in front of me. There were 3-400 people outside around the fire pits and under the roof it looked pretty well packed.
Joe appeared 1 hour late. People stood up and clapped and strained their necks to see him. It was all very pleasant. Joe started out jokey and avuncular, like all those other guys a generation older than me (hence super old) who are “good guys” but kind of trap you into listening to them for too long and who you don’t really want to hug.
His pitch is that he is the one best able to defeat Donald and that defeating him is the main thing that has to be done. What he intends to do when he wins is to first roll everything back to where Barack left it and then continue on that path. Thanks Uncle Joe. I only partly listened a lot of the time because it was boring and because there was no electrifying energy in the air. Clapping but no cheering. He ramped up and raised his voice for his Grand Finale and people clapped a little more then left.
yrmama says, “Be brave enough to leave the macaroni salad with the Velveeta chunks and ham cubes and sooo much celery in the Corelle and help yourself to the quinoa tabouli because you know you want it.” We can both defeat Donald and have more.
I’d like to point out that my current assessment of the race matches that of Nate Silver of fivethirtyeight.com and he’s usually right. That is: Joe, followed by Bernie, Kamala and PETE. I say let’s pair one of the ones that isn’t super old with Stacy Abrams as VP and burn the thing down once and for all.
Medical Postscript: May is Ehlers Danlos Awareness Month and I’m not even kidding.
There are times when yrmama is ADA eligible because due to a special bit in my DNA I make crappy collagen. (Yes, you have to make your own collagen, ingesting it does not help.) With advancing age it gets worse. Collagen is in pretty much every body part and for me the current biggest consequence is I fall over a lot, get injured easily and have widespread chronic pain. My tendons and ligaments are like ancient crunchy elastic stretching for the very last time. My massive muscles have to hold my joints together by themselves which is exhausting.
A couple of weeks ago I recklessly swung my leg out of a car and stood up without first carefully rotating my butt 45 degrees on the seat, planting both feet firmly on the pavement, hinging from the hips and rising gracefully like I was in yoga class. Unused to sudden, mindless hoisting at that angle my quadricep felt like it had been struck by a hammer as a crucial tendon gave way. I’ve been expertly rehabbing that thigh with modified squats and a foam roller and blah blah blah but all the limping made the tendonitis in that foot flare up duhblah duhblah duhblah…. So before going to see Joe I taped the sole of my left foot within an inch of it’s life and could walk painlessly but wasn’t really up for standing for a couple of hours.