Not a Political Animal

I’m seated at a table surrounded by a noisy political environment and wonder what it is about these gatherings that sets me off as an anti-social animal

I’ll read what candidates say, listen to them on newscasts, but seated in a large room with the noise level exploding in my ears feels like an assault

I know that there are folks who love this atmosphere, revel in the excitement, the chance to rub elbows with a candidate— not me

I spend my time checking my watch, wondering why it doesn’t begin when it is supposed to start

So why am I here? Because in a moment of abject weakness I agreed to come when a friend asked. “Let’s pack the hall” she said.

Perhaps the chocolate chip cookies are good.

We have a lawn sign— that’s enough.

Perhaps I should open my mouth and talk to someone.