ENDING MY WAR WITH SNOW

After serving winters in Northern IA and Boston I bare the scares of my battle with snow. I’ve battled blizzards, nor’easters, wind chills of 30 below, hours of digging my truck out of the snow, as well as pants and shoes ruined by salt and pink and blue deicing chemicals. In retaliation to winter I’d tell myself that as soon as I could I’d move away to some place warm and sunny.

See I wasn’t prepared to battle snow. Growing up in VA, just the mere threat of snow became a major news event. TV programs are interrupted, schools canceled or delayed and grocery stores completely sell out of milk, toilet paper, and bread all this before the first flake has even fallen.

Like most DC area natives who get caught in the snow’s crossfire I rarely knew what hit me. My mustang would fishtail all over the road like an animated Warner Bros. chase scene. At least I wasn’t alone; it’s common in DC to see four wheeled drive sports utility vehicles pulled over letting the inch of snow pass before trying to drive again. Bustling areas like K St, and Dupont Circle deserted as people barricade themselves in doors terrified of becoming a winter casualty.

Yet, this January it happened. I was sitting in a coffee shop in Louisville, KY after a string of beautiful 60 degree days when something didn’t feel right. If my name was Luke or OB1 I’d have said there was a disturbance in the force. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy the sunny days, but its was like one day everyone decided to call me Bob instead of Brent it just didn’t feel right. I started to miss my arch nemesis the snow.

My worst fear was confirmed when suddenly Louisville got three inches of snow and I felt like it was payday on the Friday before a long weekend. Now that I’m back in Boston I’m at peace with the wintry gift and choosing instead to see it as another reminder of the universal presence instead of a burden.

Top Ten Reasons I like being my Valentine this year!!!

10. Anytime is the right time for Kung-Fu.

9. Foreplay is done as soon as I get into bed.

8. After sex there is only sleeping - no talking.

7. Going to the gym is now an exciting experience filled with hope and optimism instead of temptation and sin.

6. I never “need to talk” with myself.

5. Now that Jessica Simpson and I are both single anything can happen.

4. Dishes are never a problem because no meals are eaten at home.

3. When I do something stupid I don’t have to buy myself a gift to show how sorry I really am.

2. Driving can be enjoyed for what it is both a contest and adventure.

1. Sports Center & pizza are perfectly acceptable on date night.

THE ZEN OF POLITICS

I hate it when people ask “so what do you do for a living?” Not because I’m embarrassed about my profession, but because it always leads to a predictable set of questions and misunderstandings which I usually have no desire to straighten out at the time.

See I’m a political fundraiser, and while surveys show that most people respect my industry as much as a tobacco salesman or a meter maid, I’d like to make the case that there is a greater good in politics that often goes overlooked. Sure, politicians will always disappoint us because they to are human, but lets not forget the armies of people who sacrificed for their potential.

I’ve worked on campaigns all over the country in small towns and big ones from Kansas City, MO to Boston, MA and back down to Jackson, TN and a whole bunch of towns you’ve never heard of. From Presidential campaigns all the way down to local races and ballot initiatives; yet, without fail, in each one something touches and speaks to my higher self. I think it has to do with being a small part of something bigger something with a higher purpose, something that people from all walks of life join together for.

Now, I don’t just mean people coming together like they casually do with a hobby like a book or sewing club. I’m talking about people coming together for a greater purpose, a mission in fact. Something that drives them to take actions you couldn’t pay the average person enough money to do. For example, when have you ever heard of a book club phone banking people who went to the library, or sewing club members protesting the local designer jeans shop? Except for the Mormons, even churches don’t make their members do the excruciating task of going door to door. Yet each year thousands of volunteers all over the country give up time they could be enjoying there families and friends, shopping, masturbating, or whatever just to make a small difference.

We know the volunteers, commonly referred to as “wacktivist” because of their great sacrifices among other reasons, aren’t campaigning for the money and fame. So what drives them to put everything else in their lives on hold? This is it; this is the Zen of politics. This is why I’m totally hooked on political campaigns; an addiction that will probably kill me just like any other, yet one that I fully embrace.

We do it because our conscious tells us it’s the right thing to do. We do it because we follow the issues closely and we don’t understand how anyone who gives a damn about what happens to their community could sit by and not be right here working with us. We are compelled and driven to act because we care so much about our collective futures.

When our compulsion drives us into a dingy old campaign office we meet brothers and sisters we never knew we had. It’s the combination of these foxhole bounds and the dignity that comes from doing what we believe is right that transforms a seemingly normal person into a wackivist.

Watching passion grow is as contagious as a good joke. As the final day grows nearer and the number of people joining the crusade sprouts exponentially the campaign takes on a life all its own. A life that Regardless of the final political outcome can only be experienced to be fully appreciated.