Sundays in My City: Politicking

'Tis the season for local politicking here in Southern Maryland. Usually, this doesn't mean much more to me than the occasional sign on the roadside, but this year, I have a vested interest.

The owner of my local liquor store is in the running. It's personal now.

When Paul and I first moved into our present home, we didn't have many friends. My parents came to visit, and the only person who knew us by name was Steve, the owner of the liquor store minutes from our home.

Let that sink in for a minute.

We had no church, few friends from either of our respective jobs, and no connections from our high school or college days. We just had Steve and his cooler of Yuengling.

I imagine my parents were thrilled by this development.

We have since made many connections in our little county, but we continue to enjoy chit-chatting with Steve when we pick up our adult beverages.

He asks about our family, calls me "dear," and always gives the kids lollipops.

Yes, I take the kids to the liquor store. Please stop judging me.

Thus, when Steve's name started popping up on lawn signs, bumper stickers, and roadside banners, I knew that he would get my vote.

This, my friends  is exactly what is wrong with American politics. I know nothing about Steve's platform, his political philosophy, or his views on really anything. That is, besides the his thoughts on the best Pinot under $12.00.

And yet, I like him. I like his family. I like the fact that he owns a small business in this era of Wal-Mart. I like that he puts up flags for Memorial Day and a big, ugly Santa sleigh on his roof each Christmas.

I like that there are always fresh flowers in the planters, and that his daughter sells watermelon from her garden on the porch of his store. Shoot, I like that his store has a porch.

Besides, honestly---he couldn't be any worse than our present batch of commissioners. One woman, who has been reelected since the beginning of time, walks around town pulling two humongous pigs on their own  leashes. I once saw her eating a pulled pork sandwich in a local restaurant, her pigs sitting quietly by her heels.

That's just messed up.

But here's the kicker. This woman--I'll call her Pig Lady---has campaign signs all over the county that say, "She knows that a million dollars is still alot of money."

"A lot," Madame Commissioner Pig Lady, is TWO WORDS. Not one. Perhaps when you are busy slashing local school budgets and horrifying your porky pets, you could take the time to proofread your own campaign signs.

Sorry. She may be a perfectly nice lady, but this issue makes me stabby.

Now, if my friend Steve is elected, that will mean that TWO of our five county commissioners will be owners of liquor stores.

It's perfect, really. We will never, ever, become a dry county.

That's something I can get behind.

There are serious elections in my fine state this November---there will be an epic rematch between Bob Ehrlich and Martin O'Malley for the governorship. Somebody will attempt, and fail, to unseat Majority Leader Steny Hoyer. There will be big money, and even bigger consequences to these elections.

But yet, I think I will have a greater thrill when I put a check-mark next to Steve's name this fall. After all, I like him. He's one of us. The politics is indeed personal.

Any politicking going around your parts?

Thanks to Unknown Mami for hosting Sundays in My City.