The moral of the story is never, I say never, tell anyone for whom you voted. A friend demanded disclosure of my selection the next day. Sadly, I acquiesced. When he found out that I, under protest, voted for Barbara Boxer, well, there was hell to pay.
He takes it all so personally: "My estimation of you, Bellingham, has gone down ten notches. A pity that great minds sometimes just don't think."
Personal attack: last refuge of a desperate reactionary.
Truth is, the Republicans deserved to lose --- and I even resent them for not providing a better candidate. Boxer was eminently beatable. The GOP could have run Pee Wee Herman against her and won. But no, they picked a vascillating chap who dropped his equivocation for a moment only to give $50,000 to that queer-baiting, Jew-hating Rev. Lou Sheldon (I used to cover Sheldon when I was a radio reporter as he'd bus in his followers from the wastelands of Orange County to confront the gays in hopes of starting riots in downtown San Francisco.)
This spat with my colleague reminds me of a Bellingham family scandal that goes back to the presidential election of 1936. My grandfather and grandmother got into a fight --- as they often did --- this time on on Election Day.
My grandmother stormed out of the house.
When she returned, she announced defiantly she had cast her vote for Norman Thomas, the Socialist candidate. My grandfather and grandmother didn't speak to each other for months.
(I think it was 1936. Thomas ran for president in every election from 1928 through 1948.)
The question remains: Does the lackluster performance by the Republicans signify a backlash against the Starr investigation or was it a simple matter of local issues prevailing? One way or the other, the White House is seizing the moment as evidence that voters are sick of the Monica Matter and really have little interest in the impeachment process. It's even being suggested that Mr. Clinton will refuse to undergo a censure or any other congressional penalty for his wanton deeds.
Some Republicans --- and even some Democrats --- are adamant. They want some kind of punitive action. Perhaps a demotion. Perhaps the President will no longer be called the "commander-in-chief" but busted down to "Captain Fellatio Hornblower."
Sorry about that. I'm such a putzhead.
I love voting. It's good, clean fun, though the registrar might consider capuccinos and croissants for the a.m. voter --- canapes and white wine for the p.m. constituency. Maybe some live music, too. Just a jazz trio. Nothing elaborate. The musicians could use the work and the electorate could use the respite from the stress of the process and the ghastly realization that the names on the ballot might actually soon hold office.
Not surprisingly, there was a paucity of analysis in the races --- both locally and nationally. It was more like a sports event. Any number of candidates: "Well, we're happy we won but now we have to go forward and carry through with our mandate."
Same sound bite as heard in the locker room: "Well, it was a tough battle but the fans are behind us and we have to concentrate now on Green Bay..."
The Body Politic: One of the more interesting outcomes was in Minnesota where a former professional wrestler, running on the Reform Party gubernatorial ticket, defeated both the son of the Happy Warrior, Hubert Humphrey, and the Republican challenger.
Minnesota had always maintained a reputation for progressive politics --- always at the vanguard of civil rights, etc.
KCBS morning announcer Al Hart --- who is a Minnesotan son --- sighed, "I'm glad my sister, the consummate politico, isn't around to see this."
In a victory speech, Jesse "The Body" Ventura evoked his heroes, Muhammad Ali and the U.S. hockey team that went to the Olympics. Conspicuously, he did not pay homage to Haystacks Calhoun nor Hombre Montana.
Though Ventura's half nelson days are apparently behind him, it is clear the voters were afraid not to vote for "The Body."
Thanks to Roy Rivenburg of the LA Times, we may avail ourselves of this timely headline from the Weekly World News: "Abe Lincoln Was the Father of Professional Wrestling! He Wore Outrageous Costumes and Trapped Opponents in the Lincoln Leglock!"
From splitting rails to splitting hairs, I always believed that tractor-pull competitions were invented so professional wrestling fans have someone to look down on.
--- Copyright Bruce Bellingham 1998
