No, I’m not interested in election law. June 23, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Campaigns, Elections, Politics
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Sam: Nerve scientists have found that when people who describe themselves as politically committed listen to political statements they respond only with the emotional side of their brain. The area of the cortex where reasoning occurs stays quiet.
Josh: So those people screaming at each other on cable really can’t help it.
Sam: And guys like you and me are quantifiably a little nuts.-The West Wing
I got an e-mail last week from the Obama campaign. It thanked me for submitting my resume, but was informing me that there was a new application procedure and that I needed to submit my resume someplace else. Funny thing is, I submitted my resume more than a year ago. One of my mom’s good friends works in TV news and was helping me get interviews on the the Hill and various other places. She knows one of the senior communications staff and got me in contact with him, which led to an interview. Submitting a resume was just part of the formal process. At the time, I was on the fence between working on the Hill and working in a law firm. I ultimately decided that I didn’t love politics enough to do this for a living and took a job at a law firm.
I’m guessing they put all the names and e-mail addresses of people who send in resumes into a database to be tapped at a later time. So mine got swept up with everyone else’s. As I deleted the e-mail, for some reason I was reminded about how differently politicos are wired. They eat, sleep and breath this stuff. It is the reason they live their life.
A couple months ago, one of the campaigns I worked on had a bit of a reunion. It was a statewide gubernatorial campaign where my guy dropped out in the middle of the primary due to a legitimate health reason. I’d say about 20-30 of us showed up at the bar we would often go to to blow off steam during the campaign. There was the typical smalltalk inquiring about how you are, what you’re doing etc. I’m good, I’m at a law firm doing nothing related to politics whatsoever. I’ve kept in pretty good touch with some of the kids closer to my age, so they know what I’ve been doing and my reasoning for doing something else. A few of them I jumped over to another campaign with and still keep in pretty regular touch with. But some of the older senior staff couldn’t believe that I was out of politics. These being the hard grizzled veterans of campaign after campaign. It was as if it was such an illogical decision on my part to step away. I’m planning on going to law school. Oh, so are you interested in election law?
I’ve been told I’m talented. Sure I was better than a lot of the kids that came on to work for free. But, that was just hard work and that’s what you did if you were serious about working in politics. Maybe willingness to bust your ass and do your job well is an indicator of talent in the political world.
There is nothing like campaigning. You won’t find that type of camaraderie in anything else. But, it also isn’t for most people. It got my juices flowing. I was actually excited to get out of bed at 7am in the middle of the summer to canvass or do press calls or whatever. Eventually I got to order other kids around. It was great. Like I’ve said before, I know what it feels like to actually give a damn about something. Something that matters. And, working on campaigns gave me that.
I was told by my last boss that I was meant to do this. It might be one of the biggest compliments I’ve ever gotten. But, after the last campaign I worked on, I wasn’t sure this was for me. We pulled a pretty big upset and it gave me a feeling of accomplishment that I’ve felt maybe twice before. But, I wasn’t sure if I was willing to work insane hours for relative peanuts with absurd job instability with little time for any relationships with people outside the business. But mostly it was because candidates, they disappoint. They almost always do. No politician can possibly live up to the promises and grandiose plans they make. But that’s what wins elections. Not small incremental changes that are actually obtainable.
Ultimately, I wasn’t willing to work in a field where I knew disappointment would be a normal feeling. I’m glad I made that choice. And for me it was the right one.
I hate kids. They’re barely human. June 16, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Gordon Bombay, Ice Hockey
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I’m pretty sure I got convinced to help my friend Andy coach a bantam travel ice hockey team. Maybe midgets. I can’t remember. There was a decent amount of beer involved. If I end up doing it, which I’m leaning towards, there should be some good stuff to write about. Pubescent high schoolers running into each other at 20+ mph with two hands holding onto what basically amounts to a club. I mean, let’s be honest. Ice Hockey is as close as it gets to our neandarthal roots. Gordon Bombay, here I come. Well, minus the douche sack former youth hockey coach. I, you know, actually like most of my coaches.
Possible downside: I’ll be kissing every other weekend goodbye once October rolls around. And who’s going to pay for my gas when I have to trek to Norfolk for a weekend tournament? Then again, money normally spent on alcohol can be spent on gas. And, I’ll probably get some super awesome gift (read: double digit gift certificate to the pro shop) from my kids at the end of the year.
Insta Insta Tortured Emo Punk Rock Points June 7, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Bruce Wayne, Californication, Chris Carrabba, Elliott Smith, Emo, Hank Moody, Holden Caufield, Kurt Kobain, Pete Wentz, Punk Rock, Rivers Cuomo, Robert Downey Jr., Robert F. Kennedy, The Incredibly Hulk, Tortured Souls
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I’ve been getting an unusual amount of traffic onto a post I wrote almost a year ago. I reread it and its a pretty angsty post. I find it a little unsettling that you can pretty much predict my emotional state based on the time of year. Februarys can be rough on me because of certain things I’m reminded of. And, apparently Junes suck for me now. My shrink had some $10 word for my supposed chronic condition. I can’t decide if, like half of psychology, it’s complete bullshit. It could just be everyday highs and lows. Then again, the highs and the lows are probably more intense for me than the average person. I could have been an emo kid in high school. We’re talking Rivers Cuomo emo here, not Pete Wentz or Chris Carrabba.
My friend Melissa thinks I’m just a tortured soul. She says I should be happy about it, because tortured souls are sexy. RFK, Robert Downey, Jr., Elliott Smith, Kurt Kobain, Holden Caufield, the Incredible Hulk, Bruce Wayne. And, oh yeah, current favorite tortured soul Hank Moody (if you don’t already watch Californication, you need to get on that). The problem with tortured souls is they are completely and utterly spent. There is no emotional capital there for anything other than the internal turmoil. Also they’re all dead or drug addicts. Or both. And the really good ones, they’re all literary characters. Come on ladies, where are you? Tortured soul, come and get your tortured soul. Huh, I guess the emotional bankruptcy kind of cancels out the sexiness of a soul that’s tortured. Yeah, I don’t want to be that.
Prince is 50 today. He’s almost as old as my parents. What?
My parents are having their bathroom and closet redone, so all the rooms upstairs are sealed off with plastic to keep all the dust out. Before the renovation, my mom told me to go through my stuff to see if there was anything I needed before the work started. There probably are a few things up there that I will need, but oh well. I didn’t do a very thorough check. I did pull out my high school yearbooks. I looked through all the notes left by other people and marveled at the unbridled excitement and naivete about the future. Keep in touch this summer. Best friends forever. Going to school with you next year is going to be CRAZY!!!! PARTIES WOOO!!! All the requisite we’re gonna be friends forever stuff. Then, there was this:
Your two fingered salutes get you insta insta punk rock points.
A kid named Welch left that. I was probably only friends with him because he was good friends with one of my good friends. I guess I was pretty fond of the middle digits on either hand. And even more fond of using them at the same time. And it apparently gave me insta insta punk rock points. I wonder if my brown Dr Martens, jeans and polo shirt got me punk rock points.
Skinned Knees and Family (Just Breathe) June 3, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Bikes, Childhood, Family, Skinned Knees, Training Wheels
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I was home all weekend for my godparents’ 35th anniversary, a niece’s birthday and a family dinner for my cousin’s engagement. Firday night I stopped by my aunt’s house for a quick dinner with my cousin’s family. We were sitting watching TV after dinner and my 3 year-old nephew was sitting with me. Out of nowhere he looks up at me with his innocent big brown eyes and asks me “Are you okay byu cao foo (uncle)?” I was taken aback by the straightforward worry that only a child can have before all the naivete is stripped away. I think I answered something like, “yeah, I’m just really sleepy.” In truth, it has been an brutally long few weeks for me. I haven’t gotten off work before 8 but for one Friday over the past three weeks, often working well past 10. That, coupled with a mini-meltdown last week, and I am just beat. I’m just trying to find a second to breathe. It’s amazing how perceptive little kids are. There are times where I wish more than anything else I could go back to then. It’s good to go home.
My parents live in a cul-de-sac up a small hill. I remember when I had just learned to ride my bike without training wheels. It must have been right around the time I was in kindergarten. We had a grassy circle in the middle of the cul-de-sac with a big oak tree in the middle. I wasn’t allowed to ride my bike any further, so I my riding area was limited to riding around the circle and up my neighbors’ driveways. I wasn’t exactly the most daring kid, but I wasn’t a sissy either.
One day I decided to ride my bike as fast as I could round and round the circle. The frame of the bike was probably close to a 45 degree angle from the ground. I found that if I went fast enough, the bike tires would skip an inch or two off the ground. It was the most terrifying, yet exciting, thing I had experienced up until then. Naturally, I decided to see just how fast I could really go. I guess twelve inch tires aren’t exactly meant for constant hopping at a 45 degree angle. Or maybe it was my insufficient balance at the time. Either way, at one point, the tires decided they had had enough and I fell over. I skinned my knee pretty badly and started bawling. Naturally, I was back on the bike the next day, riding around the circle with a few Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bandaids covering my skinned leg. Being five years old is pretty damn good.
