Two Thousand Win!

Flaming Lips NYE 2009

The last day of this decade has been a banner one. I finished my novel this morning, about seven minutes before I was set to meet five and a half of my favorite people (my husband, the Flynns, including baby Flynn who is not with us yet, @drpants and @kcclifford), at Cafe Antigua for some Guatemalan lunch. We’ve just finished watching Oklahoma (barely) win the Sun Bowl and now Brian has gone to snag a bottle of champagne for tonight’s festivities.

Finishing this rough draft of a novel, being as proud of it as I am, and doing it on the eve of an entirely new decade, makes me think that amazing things are ahead in the coming year. I’ve had this feeling for awhile, that I’m on the cusp of something, despite the fact that I have no idea what that might be. I only know that at this time last year, I had no clue of any of the humongous, humbling blessings this year has brought. And I can’t wait to see what 2010 will bring. I can’t wait to challenge myself over the next year. I can’t wait to turn 30.

I hope you all are happy and safe as you ring in a new year and a new decade. See you in the ‘teens (¿Is that what we’re calling them now? The Teens? The Tens? The Twenty-Teens? SUPERMONDODECADEzOMG?!?! You all think about it and get back to me).

As Read By The Author

Sarah PalinI have had remarkably poor luck writing about politics on this website. I mean, like – wow. I write a post about how the internet seems to give people license to verbally abuse one another in ways they wouldn’t dream of doing in person, and about how I think it’s ruining America for us to attack one another with anonymous, abusive comments, and what do I get but anonymous, abusive comments.

So when I sit here with my “Add New Post” window open, telling you that I’ve just finished listening to Sarah Palin read her book Going Rogue on my iPod, well, I can’t help but feel some trepidation. Many of my sweet, well-meaning liberal friends make faces like I’d stepped in dog poo and ask, “Ugh, why?” Many of my sweet, well-meaning conservative friends narrow their eyes and brace themselves for a stream of invective I’m sure they’ve heard about the former Alaska governor more times than they’d like.

So it confuses people of all political stripes when I tell them that I am completely, utterly fascinated by Sarah Palin, and not in a mean way. Like in a “Gorillas in the Mist” kind of way. Oh, shit, now you’re going to think I’ve called her a gorilla. She’s not a gorilla. It’s just that my interest in her is almost anthropoligical; listening to this book I felt like Jane Goodall hiding out with a pad, scrawling down my observations.

Now that Gorillagate is behind us – just so we’re clear: I would never, ever vote for Sarah Palin. For anything. But I don’t hate her; I just happen to vehemently disagree with the political philosophy to which she ascribes herself.

So I’m not going to talk about any of that, except to say that if you take your assessment of liberal political philosophy from this book, you couldn’t be more off the mark. Sarah doesn’t describe it accurately at all.*

No, what fascinates me is her life. How she became the person she is. I get now, more than ever, why the people who like her, like her so much. Her story is like so many others’ – people laud her for being “one of us,” and she really, really is. She’s just an ordinary lady, a mom who got involved in the political process. That she doesn’t see the irony of so many of her statements and positions is just a testament to the paradoxical and often self-contradictory nature of political life across the spectrum in America in the 21st century.

She’s on the defensive a lot in this book, and I have to say in a lot of ways I understand that. But I also think it’s odd that someone so supremely confident that they wouldn’t hestitate to accept the vice-presidntial slot also seems to be unable to mitigate the need to hit back at people who take cheap – real** or perceived*** – potshots at her.

Thing is, as fascinated as I am by that weird personality paradox, I get it. I get defensive when people take shots at me, even when it’s anonymous, like the comments I’m sure to get on this post, but also I believe I’m a good writer and, with enough hard work and dedication could be Among the Writers. I suppose that doesn’t make sense either.

I don’t think this book is anything revelatory. There’s not a lot of new political thinking in it, and what was there I would say I disagreed with a whole lot of the time – though not uniformly, surprisingly. Like 95% I disagreed with. I guess what I find most fascinating is that Sarah Palin is, to my mind, a perfect product of the times. She embodies so much of what the 21st century has been about so far, her life so archetypal of a lot of this time in America. She’s “one of us,” all right. And if it makes me an elitist to say so, then fine, but I’m just not sure any old “one of us” should be the President. I think it requires someone excellent, intelligent, uniquely creative, highly thoughtful and supremely courageous. Whether or not you ascribe those qualities to the current President is for you to decide; as fascinating as I find Sarah Palin, after reading this book I’m just convinced she’s not up to the job. That’s nothing against you; I hope we can still be friends. Truth is, I’d love to have a cup of coffee with Sarah. I’d love to talk to her about our respective thinking about this country and what makes it so great and, occasionally, flawed. She says in the book that her conservative philosophy comes from seeing the world as Fallen; I’d love to share with her how my liberal thinking comes from the same belief.

Maybe we’ll get to have that coffee. Maybe not. Maybe someday blog comments and political cable and radio broadcasts and letters to the editor and town halls will be a bit more like that. Maybe not. Either way, Sarah will go her way and I’ll go mine and you’ll go yours. I think when we reach whatever comes after this life we’ll realize that these differences we have don’t divide us as much as we think they do.

*Go read John Rawls’ A Theory of Justice for a better understanding of liberal thinking, and Robert Nozick’s Anarchy, State and Utopia for a good understanding of conservative philosophy.

**Levi Johnston

***Katie Couric, David Letterman, et al.

First Car

Brian's First Car

We’re testing out the new wireless printer/copier/scanner my brother got us for Christmas, and by way of testing the wireless scanning capabilities we scanned this photograph of Brian’s first car. It’s a beaut, huh? He sold it when he went to college because he was afraid he wouldn’t have the time to dedicate to its upkeep. That’s a shame. My first car, on the other hand, was a 1981 BMW 320i; it cost $2500 and puttered out on me after just over a year. It had a manual sunroof and would die if you weren’t gassing it; lots of fun when you go to a high school with 2,000 students, all of whom are trying to get home at 3 p.m. out of two exits. I did love that car, though; there’s something so magical and freeing about your first car. I remember I spent every day between my 15th and 16th birthdays thinking, “When I can drive I’m so outta here.”

And you know what? When I finally got my license in October of 1996, I was so outta there. I didn’t take off on some grand road trip, but every trip to the store, every stop off at the library, every friend who needed a ride home was a little bit more freedom and control, another mile closer to finding out who I was, whatever that meant. God, I loved it. Now I just have road rage and self-righteousness, although I do have a car I love and have been driving for a decade. Still, nothing compares to your first car, does it? What was your first car?

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