258 candles-days 102-109

Herein I offer my confession, that like so many others, and despite my safeguards and attempts at being different, I have caught myself arguing with friends who are more or less on the same side politically as I am, but whose choice of candidate is different and whose method of explaining why it's the superior choice involves demonizing the opposing candidate. My realization involves something like this great story Anne Lamott tells in Travelling Mercies:

She was in a wheelchair, wearing a wig to cover her baldness, weighing almost no pounds, but very serene, very alive. We were at Macy’s. I was modeling a short dress for her that I thought my boyfriend would like.

But then I asked whether it made me look big in the hips, and Pammy said, as clear and kind as a woman can be, “Annie? You really don’t have that kind of time.” 

I don't have that kind of time. None of us has that kind of time. In the immortal words of Toni Childs, Stop your fussin'.