Election NIght

My daughter Heather works off her tension with a drive for competence and efficiency.Win or lose, signs are  collected  as soon as the polls close
.
The  aim is to have every sign  gathered  before the final vote is tallied.

The election is over. We begin anew.

This time  teen-age grandchildren were on hand to help. They came to see me before the party began, eyes shining with excitement and  happiness. It was good for them to be so close to the action  One never knows where or when  a seed will take root.

Aaron is twenty years old. He is over six feet tall. Good looking and articulate and  always ready for a political discussion. When he talks philosophy, he leave me in his dust.

He will be twenty-four at the time of the next election. He thinks he might be a candidate for the office of  Mayor of Newmarket.

It's not as if they don't hear the bad with the good. Kids talk about things. They repeat what  parents say. Mine know me to be just like any other Grannie except that my interest is a little off-beat..

When I first started writing the blog. Heather Sisman was  helping me . She thought I should publish good comments with bad. So I did.

Then I thought,why should I give my enemies a platform. Let them write their own blog. In the last couple of  days the  rage is  spewing out as well as a torrent of  good  wishes for all of us in the next four years.

Some of it got published accidentally

There is a bit of  advantage. It illustrates the  meanness and lack of self-respect that has been a feature of the Mormac  administrtation, better than any words I could use.

The Citizen Blog had a  dose of it this morning.The theme is, I am not entitled to respect.

I wonder how a person justifies treating  another with disrespect.

For example, if I ever addressed the  outgoing presiding member as anything other than Madam Mayor....or responded to the  eye-rolling  insufferable  condescension, long-suffering glances,.. with
similar behaviour in kind,our Council Chamber would have been a regular exhibition  of deportment no-one would wish to be a part. 

I never did that.

Instead,I  came home to Doctor Becker and  David Letterman and soaked in their humour  of slicing individuals and institutions  to razor thin shreds for my entertainment. It was my outlet.

I am not above resentment. I  do not claim to be  saintly. With respect however, I do take exception to being accused of not knowing how to conduct myself as a Councillor or handle my enemies.