Roger, The Politician Whisperer

Raise your hand if you're sick of political campaigning. I thought so. Me, too.

I don't know how it is we evolved from "I'm going to focus on education" to "My opponent impregnated an innocent, juvenile space alien, kills kittens and puppies, and dines on babies," but that is where we are now. I'm sick of it - and I have the solution. Roger at AT&T. The Politician Whisperer.

I discovered this campaign wizard while I was discussing my cable bill with him. It all happened simply enough - once they've dispatched your issue, customer service people always ask if there is anything else they can do for you. I often have a quip ready. "Yes, you can fix the economy." "You can cure cancer." "You can solve the overpopulation problem." There is plenty they can do for me.

When Roger uttered this query, I had a ready response. I requested that he rid my television of the dreadful political ads we are relentlessly battered with. Shouldn't cable offer political ad screening? A monthly charge of $5 would be well worth it. In true customer service fashion, Roger apologized for that which he bears no responsibility in subjecting us all to. He then offered his version of how things should be.

He would set up debates where no mud slinging is allowed. He would moderate, compelling them all to stick with positive themes - what they promise. Should they slip into mud slinging modes, they will be consigned to nearby stables to muck out the stalls. That would best match their behavior.

Roger reserves the right to stop and question debating candidates at any time regarding just how they are to accomplish their promised feats. As he said to me, they would be required to focus on the positives - no blaming or name-calling. They are to discuss only what they will try to achieve. His guess, based on recent campaigns, is that quite a few stables will be spotless.

Roger is a radical that way - he believes in rational discourse and reasonable promises. He would require that all candidates tell us what they have done for us and what they will do. He will banish all mud slingers and name-callers to the stables and applaud honest, forward-focused discourse.

While he was speaking, I recognized not only an impressive intellect, but also a unique talent. Roger has an extraordinary gift. My friends know of my connection with The Dog Whisperer... that connection colors how I see the world. It has gifted me with a unique insight. Thus, I recognize in Roger that quality which is required to make real changes. I hereby officially declare Roger of AT&T The Politician Whisperer.

He believes this is possible... he believes with a bit of guidance, politicians and hopefuls are capable of being positive.

Come to think of it, he must be quite mad.

Socks on the Floor

Early in our marriage, my husband had a habit of forgetting his socks on the bathroom floor after his nighttime shower. It’s a short trip to the hamper, yet somehow, everything but the socks made it. Initially, I would make a sweet/humorous hint. “Honey - are you through with your socks?”

“Sorry - I’ll get them.”

“That’s okay - I have them.”

Such was our nightly routine. After a few months, I began to be bothered by the whole business. It’s not like it took extra effort to attend to them. They weren’t bathroom floor camouflage socks. He simply forgot them.

Thus it went for several months until I found myself growing more and more irritated by those socks. What was the problem? Why couldn’t this man, with a graduate degree and responsible for tens of millions of dollars at work, put his socks in the hamper? It began to really get under my skin. That’s when the shrink in me came out.

Why was I so annoyed? And what would I say to a therapy client who had this complaint? I knew exactly what I would say. I would ask, “What harm do the socks on the floor cause you?” and “What is the worst thing that can happen if he never remembers to pick up his socks?”

I decided then and there that picking up his socks was an expression of my love for this man - this man who stood up and promised the rest of his life to me. This loving, thoughtful, patient, splendid man. I shut up about the damn socks.

Several years later, after my shower, I heard my sweet husband’s voice float out of the bathroom: “Honey, are you through with your stockings?” As he put them in the hamper, I laughed so hard I almost peed. And I was so very grateful I had been quietly picking up this amazing man's socks all those years.

© 2010 by Alice Clearman Fusco

Thank God it's not Friday

One Wednesday morning I was at work, thinking about how glad I was that it was "hump day." Once you're finished with Wednesday, you are over the hump of the week... then it's all downhill. A busy Thursday, already sunnier with the promise of Friday. Then Friday, glorious Friday! On Friday night, we'll pop some popcorn, snuggle up with our favorite cat, and watch a movie. Lovely, beautiful, fresh, Friday. Everything is wonderful on Friday.

I sat there in happy anticipation of Wednesday night, the lead-in to Thursday which ushers in Friday, and mused about the weekend ahead. I thought about Saturday's plans... then Saturday afternoon and onto Saturday night. Next comes Sunday. Sunday, which is poisoned by Monday.

And then, as I thought about it, I realized that Saturday night was poisoned by the poison of Sunday... and that leaked into Saturday afternoon, which colored Saturday morning and - well, before I knew it, the only time that mattered was about four hours on Friday when I got home from work and felt completely free. Friday night - dinner, movie, bed. I was horror-struck. This is my life? This is what I am living for?

That's when I realized I was wishing my life away a week at a time. The only true value my life held was that tiny four hour window. I was living life from Friday night to Friday night. Movies are great - but when I'm watching a movie, I'm not learning anything, developing myself, or doing something for the benefit of another. Out of 168 hours each week, I was putting all the value of my life into those 4 little hours.

I decided, sitting at my desk on that Wednesday morning, that was the best time of the week. That moment, that morning with the people I had been working with - people I had come to care about - people who mattered to me... that morning was the BEST moment of my week. And I determined to stop squandering my precious time, to stop wishing it away, to stop living from Friday night to Friday night, and to make every moment of my life the best moment of the week.

As I sit here right now, I am very fortunate to be in the best moment of my week. It's Wednesday morning.

© 2010 by Alice Clearman Fusco