I Was A Card Carrying Democrat Part II - Bleeding Hearts And Hand Wringers

Well, as the last post would show you, I was a bleeding heart.  I bled everywhere.  A hand wringer.  And mostly, that's what I was.  A bleeding heart hand wringer.  Like my friends.  We didn't do much.  We didn't volunteer.  Not really.  We were too busy being young and crazy.  When we did something, it was usually like the "Aids Walk" or the "MS Walk".  Not a lot of time and money put into it.  Just sign up some donors, grab a T-Shirt so we could say we did it and walk a grueling 10 miles in the Philadelphia heat and humidity.

You would start at the Philadelphia Art Museum.  You know the one where Rocky runs up the 168 flights of stairs in the first Rocky?  Walked around and got little tokens.  Key rings.  Drink cozies.  They start you out with stretching exercises so you don't cramp up.  Then you walk around the beautiful Skuykill River.  Through the park and down by Boat House Row.  'Til you end up back at the ranch..er..Museum where they would have fruit and juice and ice cream and peanut butter sandwiches.  Then pick up a few other cool trinkets to show that we had "done our part".

I remember one walk very well.  We had pulled an all nighter.  Made the rounds of the clubs that we always went to.  It was a Saturday night ritual.  That night, I had found out that my newest boyfriend (whom I'd been seeing for about six weeks) was either seeing someone else or was living with them.  Not sure which.  One of our acquaintances saw him at a club (that I had introduced him to; how stupid is that?) with another woman.  Kissing mind you.  Called up another friend of mine who got out of her Saturday slump clothes and ran down to the club.  Where she saw him kissing the other woman.  She walked up to him (per her account), took his beer, and poured it over his head.  After spluttering a few minutes, he apparently went into "panicky, guy who got caught" mode and proceeded to whip out the infamous "I wasn't kissing her, she was kissing me" line.  Compounded by the "she is just an old friend" line followed by the "I'll call Kat and explain everything" line.

Side note:  Are men genetically programmed with these lines?  I don't want to turn this into  a "man bashing" entry.  I could say all sorts of interesting things that my female friends pulled on men.  I just want to know where this stuff comes from?  Like:  I did not have sex with that woman!  Er...phallus...orifice?  What is that anyway?

I digress...short version.  Friend who caught boyfriend, calls friend who is with me.  Friend returns to table and asks me if I will be heartbroken if Andy turns out to be an asshole.  What?  Just a hypothetical question she said.  Drive home.  3 AM in the morning, there is other friend parked outside of my apartment.  Andy is an asshole.  Go upstairs.  Pour more margaritas.  Complain about men.  Friend informs me that she informed asshole not to bother to call (ever again) and try to explain as she was heading over to my apartment and explaining for him.  Drink and gab until 5 AM.  Sleep for 2 hours.  Hang over.  Drive to Aids walk.  Walk 10 miles with hang over in 90* F and 80% humidity.  Almost puke.  Get blister on right heel.  Curse men roundly for 3 hours under my breath.  Return to ranch..er..Museum.  Dump donations and go home feeling good (theoretically) that I have done my part to cure AIDS.

Another side note:  if you are a guy and you are reading this, first, apologies if you were offended.  Second, take heed of what I am telling you.  Women have friends who have friends who have friends.  Don't piss in your own backyard because you will be found out.  Third, we know when you are lying.  Only dumbasses who are afraid to be alone will let you get away with the lie.  Better to just toe the line and avoid the pain and embarrassment.

So, Andy the asshole never did call me back.  My friends urged me to call him and curse him three ways from Sunday, but I refused.  I was not giving him the satisfaction.  Never saw him again.

That was about the extent of my "bleeding heart and hand wringing".  Couple that with my voting.  If a new tax was proposed to help schools.  I voted yes.  Never mind property tax.  I was an apartment dweller and had no idea what that was about.  If a new tax was proposed to provide daycare centers for single, low income mothers who were working, I voted yes.  Never mind the increase in tax on "luxury" items.  I only bought them once in a while and it had no effect on me.  Fix the roads and raise the bridge tolls?  Hell NO!  We should be able to figure out how to repair the roads with the money we had.  Clean up the environment and raise gas tax by 5 cents per gallon?  I voted yes.  The environment is important don't you know.  Never mind that it was going to cost Pennsylvania residents a couple more bucks to drive to work everyday.  That's not important.  Never mind that it cost more to deliver goods and services in the state and made the price of these services go up.  Never mind that meant people bought less goods.  Never mind that meant businesses didn't have the same profit margin.  Never mind that meant people were probably laid off.  The delivery company couldn't field as many trucks or take as many routes.  People were laid off.

That's what I did with my bleeding heart.  I didn't have a clue about taxes or bureaucracy or impact on economy or whether any program, act or law actually worked.   No statistics. 

I voted "feel good" politics.  If they had a "cause" I was voting.  If they spoke well, I voted.  I didn't understand about how higher state taxes drove the businesses away and kept people unemployed.  Not until much later.  I remember the company I worked for moved their offices down the road to Delaware.  Delaware has very low taxes.  I believe the lowest state sales tax in the US.  I had to drive an extra 15 miles each way on my inflated gas prices.  I was screwing myself.  Eventually, I had to find a job closer to home. 

In otherwords, I didn't know and I voted like I didn't know.

Did I volunteer?  Nope.  Did I try to help somebody?  Nope.  I gave money.  I didn't give me.  I didn't know how my tax money was really spent.  I didn't know how much actually did or did not make it down the line to the people in need. 

But I still saw those people.  Every day.  Signs that said "Viet Nam Vet; Will Work For Food".  People that slept on the steam grates over the sewers.  Wrapped up in blankets.  During the winter, the really bad one in '93, my friends and I took some blankets down to the mission drop off point.  Why didn't the government do something?  How come we couldn't help these people?  What was wrong with our government?  Couldn't they see people were suffering?  We have a social obligation to take care of our citizens.  We need more money.  More programs.

Why didn't the government do something?

My heart bled.  I wrung my hands.  I did a few half assed things, like most people that expect "the government" to do something.  It's not their job.  As long as we give the government money to manage these programs, it's the government's job.  That's how I voted.

Tonight, I was listening to the Democrat Convention.  I heard Obama Barack, (D) Illinois:

It's that fundamental belief — I am my brother's keeper, I am my sisters' keeper — that makes this country work

Who is my brother's keeper?  Me?  Or some administrator up in DC who doesn't know my brother from Adam?