My 18 year old son is about to vote for the first time. He’s researched the candidates and is ready to influence the election, despite the Corona virus. He knows- we all know the safe practices to follow.
After being bombarded with candidate cards and smiles as we approached the voting area, it was clear little consideration had been given to social distancing. The voting lines were filled with people standing about a finger nail apart. The volunteers were huddled around the corner of a plastic card table with no hand sanitizer to be seen.
After asking for his driver’s license, a distracted poll worker handed him an unsterile, clear Bic pen with bite marks on it to sign his name on the sticker establishing that he exists. This was then followed by her giving him an equally unsanitary white plastic card to vote with. More lines. As it was time for him to vote, the bell rang as if we were at Trader Joes; and he heard a wave of applause at the announcement ” first time voter.!” And then he’s escorted to a computer screen bouncing with leftover germs from the last 3 voters. Yuk!
After Voting, he was rewarded for his bravery during this national crisis with a dollop of hand sanitizer and an “I voted today”sticker. Go vote!
I woke up thinking about luchadores? Yes I did. I thought I might find some masks to post. While it was cool to see the photos of the real Nacho Libre, I still liked Jack Blacks version better. Sorry Fr. Nacho. And there were way too many images of Santo, Lucha Libre, and Mistico to choose from. I decided to scrap the idea. And then like an unexpected flying leap from the ropes, I stumbled upon a black and white photo of ” Santo con helado(ice-cream)” and oneof L’ange blanc playing pinball, and Hurricane Ramirez, ” the prince of silk” smoking a pipe- all with their colorful masks on. Awwwwww-the human side of these macho mad men! So many touching moments to choose from. But in the end, I kept revisitingthis photo of the Blue Demon. I imagined it was for his high- school yearbook. Crazy I know. Any chance I wondered if he was voted most likely to body slam an opponent?
Sitting on the only remaining seat on the L train, covered in black leather with faded flecks of gold is her purse. You know her. She’s the one who appears oblivious to how many people are standing. She makes herself appear busy by having her thumbs do a drum solo on her iPhone. But really she is just daring you to ask her for the seat. In fact, now her leg covered by the black and cream diamonds on her dress inches over to protect her valuables. And then when her stop arrives, she pushes, and demands the standees move aside so the queen may exit.
Scrolling down my reader, I become increasingly judgmental of the many “top 100” or “awards for best…….blog” pages. More specifically, it annoyed me to see very intimate poetry slapped together in a list for pointless recognition. I think of trophys and ribbons as being given to winners in a competition. And I just can’t grasp the idea of making this distinction between losers and winners with poets and other artists unless they choose to compete. What am I missing here? What do you think?
Do elementary school classrooms still have dulled metal pencil sharpeners secured to a wall? Waiting for the next child to crank its handle so it can gnarl on the yellow chewed up wood until it reaches a sharp point; and then feast on the number #2 shavings in its oblong belly? And when fully consumed, does the school custodial engineer/janitor collect and save the grinded remains, so it can be used to absorb the days lunch the next time a second grader violently hurls their mac n’ cheese and strawberry jello down the long winding staircase leading directly to the bathroom on the first floor?