We're having our measure of tragedy in the family these last few weeks. I can't really discuss it, it is terribly private, but involves my entire family. A number of our extended family members like my sister, her children, my aunt and my cousins are all visiting as we band together to give each other strength. Like a silver lining emerging from the dark shadow of a rain cloud, it reminds you that life is a measure of all things at all times and that allowing pain or tragedy to overwhelm you is still a choice. You can simply choose not to be.

Honest.

...but I should not digress from the point I want to make too much. My point is in a small tangential revelation that I experienced as Wendy (the brightest light of *my* life) and I took some time out from the "struggle of now". We paused, and treated ourselves to a few hours at one of the local day spas.

It seems like another lifetime ago, but when I was younger I lived in California for a few short years. I was stationed in Alameda while I was in the US Navy and once I had received my honorable discharge I returned to Northern California to live. I was enraptured with the geography there, especially around the Napa Valley and along the northern coastline.

While living there, my sweetheart at the time was an aspiring massage therapist. I don't know if this is a universal constant, but when you mix "massage therapist" with "Northern California" you get an eclectic mix of people that dabble in new age idealism, veganism, reiki, tribal shamans, visits to psychics... I think I can stop right there, you probably get the picture. Let's just say that I don't imagine that crowd espousing the virtues of the Bush campaign today.

...which may have prejudiced me when I was, the better part of a decade later, sitting in the reception room of the little day-spa here in South Florida. I was idly chatting with the receptionist while the massage therapist was performing her healing magic on my wife. Invariably, the proximity of the upcoming election demanded its share of attention. As the conversation took a tack in that direction, I prepared myself to defend my opinion of both Bush and Kerry in the least offensive manner possible and look for a way to change the topic. Of course, the receptionist immediately announced her disdain for President Bush. It looked like I was going to be right. When the conversation turned towards Kerry, however, I was surprised to see that she had even less of a palatable impression of *him*. I dared to edge the conversation towards some of the challenges we face in the world: Terrorism, the war in Iraq, our economy.

This is where the story ends, folks. She confessed to me that almost all of her friends were voting for Bush.

I was floored.

Wendy revealed to me later that her massage therapist seemed to be preoccupied with voter fraud here in Florida, which surprisingly enough was the Democratic Whine-du-Jour that day.

It will be a cold day in hell the day that a staunch liberal Democrat will drop the party line (or their ultra-conservative counterparts for that matter) but I was still stunned to see the reaction of this receptionist. When she admitted that to me, I could almost see the loose shingles on the roof of the Democratic house.

Here in Florida, that's a sign of certain trouble when a storm is on the way...

(blogging from Broward County, democratic stronghold of South Florida)

Posted by Michael at October 17, 2004 11:35 AM