State of exhaustion

What a stupid week. 

It started out well.  We spent Saturday night in Poynette, at a friend’s house on Lake Wisconsin.  We had enjoyed a lovely evening of dinner and conversation.  The morning brought snowy, sleety weather resulting in a 2-hour white knuckle drive home.  We arrived safely to a delightful breakfast of eggs, hash browns and bacon prepared by our son Carl who was visiting from Philly.  He and his girlfriend Amanda had come in for the weekend and it was great to get some “kid” time.  We had a lovely day and wonderful family dinner that included my sister and her family.  The weather continued to deteriorate, but the warmth in the house was more than enough to overcome the nastiness outside.

After dropping the kids off at the airport early Monday morning, I headed off to work.  I run two big projects and they are both ramping up.  Over the course of the week I facilitated 7 global conference calls, accommodating every time zone for over 200 participants in total; I attended multiple strategy meetings and tied off loose ends on project decisions with our supplier.  Overall, nothing more or less than I would expect to do in the course of working these projects.  It’s always tiring, but rewarding.

What I didn’t account for in my allocation of personal energy is all of the craziness going on at our State Capitol building in Madison.  The news has been magnetic.  The conversations have been riveting.  The anger has been repulsive.  In all, it’s exhausting.  I have learned a few things however and would like to share before I back away completely from the discussions and refocus again on family, job and life in general.

1.  An electoral mandate is not numbers driven.  When 1,128,159 voters out of a possible voter pool of 4,370,000 cast their vote for a candidate, in Wisconsin at least, the opinions of the 1,005,008 participating voters and the other 2,236,833 non voters no longer matter.
2. Listening is free; the ability to listen is a learned skill; the willingness to listen is arbitrary.
3. If facts, reason and logic were enough to effectively persuade, no one would use tobacco products in any form.




Blood Sucking Leech


4. This is a blood sucking leech. I have never conversed with a blood sucking leech at any state agency.  I have only interacted with people, you know, human beings with feelings.  And I was taught by human beings in the public schools.  Nice, dedicated people actually, unless of course I was late with an assignment. Come to think of it, the only place I've ever seen a blood sucking leech is in the lake up-north.  And those leeches were not wearing DNR uniforms.

Agree or don’t, your prerogative.

Now, what I really want to do is get on my bike and ride to the beach.  Except the nearest beach is snow covered, and there is no dude renting beach umbrellas and handing out frozen towels.  I guess I’ll have to settle for a nap.  *Sigh.*

On Wisconsin!

A lot of crazy stuff happening in Wisconsin right now.  My future former home state. I haven’t had so much fun paying attention to the news since the last…blizzard. 

Howdy Gang… Paula’s son Carl here. Way to go gang, Wisconsin gang that is. You’ve taken a total failure to elect the clear choice (college graduate, ex congressman, ex Milwaukee mayor and defender of old women at the State Fair) Tom Barrett, and instead elected a douche bag. Scott Walker. Yup that one. In case you didn’t live in Milwaukee County in the last few years he is (as George Takei recently called out a southern school board member for encouraging gay teens to get aids) a “ Total Douche bag”.  Best part, unlike so many political come late to the party types you all showed up.  You got gutless politicians to grow guts. You chased ‘em right out of the state and down to Illinois. They phoned in a list of demands and made me proud in Philadelphia. Jesse Jackson showed up. Barack Obama gives a hoot. You did good. Fighting Bob wouldn’t be proud of your initial turn out, but he’d be OK with your last efforts.  I’ll be at the capital on Sunday.  Thanks guys.

Short but sweet – did you vote in the gubernatorial election? If you didn’t, perhaps you’ll reconsider the consequences of your inaction before the next election. Best words I’ve read in the last few days -- "when will we realize that the good news is that we get exactly what we ask for on Election Day. The bad news, of course, is that we get exactly what we ask for on Election Day." (D. Taylor)

Mystery Date

It’s almost Valentines Day. What woman in a relationship doesn’t wonder what special Valentine will be bestowed upon her? And what woman hoping for a relationship doesn’t yearn for that secret Valentine and acknowledgement of her adoration? I’m no exception, I never was.

As a pre-teen I had a game called “Mystery Date”, an unrealistic flight of fancy for a girl dreaming of the perfect romance. The purpose of the game was to collect cards, representing the appropriate event accoutrements, in preparation for the perfect date with your mystery man. There was the Beach Date, the Formal Dance, the Ski Date, and the Picnic. Once you had all the cards for a particular date you could open the door at the center of the game – if your cards matched the dream man, it was happily ever after. Of course, you might not get a date at all. You might get the “dud” guy and then you had to start over.

On a Saturday morning, about 10-years into our marriage, Dan came in from working on the cars. Somehow, we got to talking about childhood games. Dan especially enjoyed games with a pop-o-matic. I recalled Mystery Date. As I explained the game and described the “dud” guy I realized that he was standing before me, covered in dirt and grease, morning pre-shower hair, work clothes and the odor of a hardworking man. We laughed pretty hard about that.

The Mystery Date game implied that we both needed to get ready somehow, have all the right gear for the perfect date. Any kind of a mismatch was a loss. Well it turns out that was completely false. The “dud” had the ultimate advantage. He was undefined, so he could be anyone, and remake himself at any time. Dan, by no means a “dud”, does not fit neatly into any category. He’s just…Dan.

My Mystery Date came with no “accoutrements.” Instead he has enough self-confidence to get dirty and fix things. He’s a wonderful father. He’s not afraid of hard work and doing the right thing. He brings me a rose, on a Tuesday, because he knows it will make me smile. He’s remodeled most of three houses, kept an odd assortment of vehicles safe and on the road, and has introduced me to a life of fun and adventure. He calls me during the day because he misses the sound of my voice.

Marriage is a Mystery Date. After you open the door you need time and patience to discover the person standing in front of you. I am loved and I know it. I’m looking forward with optimism and excitement to more adventures with my perfect date. And that’s the best Valentine ever. 


Music that resonates:
You're the Inspiration - Chicago