Because I have two public speaking engagements on Thursday, I’ve decided to go diva and rest my voice.
That means when the 9 year old asks me to explain why I wear pajamas around the house on days when other daddies wear suits to crowded offices, I just hold up my hands, my signal the subject is closed.
I’ve been doing this for two days and by now the whole family reflexively responds to me holding up my hands by holding up their middle fingers.
A South Hills financial group is paying me to talk for an hour Thursday about the soulful benefits of colorful living. I’m very grateful for the opportunity.
Then three hours later I’ll be resuming my role as emcee word master at the 10th annual Greensburg Rotary Spelling Bee for area 8 year olds.
It promises to be fun and there’s no real danger I’ll lose my voice from talking too much.
The real fear is we’ll all lose our collective sanity from hearing too much.
We’re inundated by historic amounts of excessive, shrill and unnecessary talk. It’s everywhere.
The only thing that today exceeds our national inarticulateness is the number of megaphones possessed by all those who have nothing to say.
It’s particularly acute now because of the presidential campaign. None of the candidates is capable of shutting up.
And all of them seem to shout.
No one speaks softly — although one prominent candidate likes to brag he carries a big stick.
And with their every tweet or pronouncement there are multitudes of paid spokesmen ready to be interviewed by paid interviewers about what it all means.
I’ve for six months now listen to all the campaign talk in the car. I’d tune into watch the pre-debate hype, the debates and all the post-debate analysis.
Worse, I started channel surf all the political shows on my morning commute.
Now, regular readers know my commute is precisely 1 minute and 40 seconds — and that’s if I hit the town’s lone traffic light.
I have no commute. But I was hooked on the news. What was I to do?
I added a meal to my day. I got into the habit of grabbing a newspaper and hitting one of the drive-thrus, a daily surge of unnecessary calories.
The candidates were talking about growing the economy, but the only tangible growth was in my waistline.
Plus, and this is epidemic, it was souring my disposition. I found myself eager to confront strangers in diners for opinions that differed from mine.
The political fever is making America sick.
Well, I’m opting out. I’m tuning out the political back and forth. After all, is any of it going to change anyone’s opinion?
If you support Trump now is anything going to happen between now and November 8 that’s going to have you say, “You know, maybe she’s right. Maybe we should be more inclusive. I’m with her!”
And, guaranteed, no Hillary fan is going to wake up and say, “I’m feeling a little queasy after that Speedy Gonzalez burrito special last night. I think that bastard Pedro is trying to poison me. Let’s deport his ass!”
It’s all set in stone, so what’s the point?
I’m done.
I no longer listen to Morning Joe. I listen to Willie’s Roadhouse.
When I was home alone at lunch yesterday, I didn’t watch the cable news shows.
I watched “Green Acres!”
I’m convinced our next evolutionary step is ear lids so we can slam our ears shut the way we do our eyes when confronted with visual upleasantness.
That’s all for now.
I’ve already said too much.
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