Confessions of a Recovering Junkie -- Politically Speaking

I’m outing myself here. Baring my soul. Laying it before you.

You see. I’m a junkie. But I’m trying to reform. Honest. I’m just having a devil of a time doing it. No. I’m not addicted to alcohol or drugs or sex (sigh). I’m not a junk food junkie (although there have been times in the throes of deadline hell my chocolate intake has raised questions among my family -- along with my blood sugar) and I am not a shopaholic--well, except in bookstores, that is. Yet my ‘habit’ has as much capacity to disrupt my writing regimen as a gambling bug bite you’re compelled to scratch on the slot machines or at black jack tables.

I am a political junkie. There. I said it. And acknowledging the condition is the first step in curing it, right?

I should say I’m a recovering political junkie. I’ve been interested in politics since high school government class when we conducted a mock UN session. I was the ambassador from France. Let me tell you, I learned what the word ‘abstain’ meant in short order during my brief tenure as the French ambassador. Later in college, as an idealistic freshman, I was convinced a peanut farmer from Georgia had what it took to be the leader of the free world. My major was English--not political science--but coming from the heartland I figured if you can’t trust a farmer, who can you trust? I also thought Rosalyn Carter would make a really cool first lady.

Since that time I’ve become more up close and personal with the political arena. As a trooper I provided security at the governor’s residence (I got to know the governor’s pooch and his gastrointestinal habits very well) and at the state capitol where lawmakers convened yearly to draft legislation they would invariably end up having to correct at the next session. But I was fast becoming hooked by the spectacle that politics and politicians provide.

During the last decade I found myself spending way too much time consuming political blogs, watching CSPAN and debates that put other folks to sleep and hunched over newspaper articles. At the last election I volunteered to be a poll watcher though what I would have done if a hanging chad showed up, I haven’t the vaguest idea. Nevertheless, I was hooked.

Where’s the harm, you ask? You’re one of the informed electorate, Kathy, you assure me. What’s the big deal? The big deal is the thrall current events have over me. The harm is the lure of the political sphere--its capacity to pull me away from my writing for prolonged periods of time. Not particularly beneficial when you are on a deadline.

I hear you. Just walk away, you recommend. Go Cold Turkey. No radio, TV, newspaper or internet. Sounds simple enough. Except that I live in Iowa--traditionally home of the first caucus--and, it seems, new home to a score of politicians out pressing hands and kissing babies and delivering stump speeches. Hillary (and Bill), John (and Elizabeth), Obama, Mitt, Tom, the other John, Joe, Mike, among others have pitched their tents in our state in an effort to gain momentum from the first in the nation caucus heading into primary season.
But please, tell me. How does a citizen with a long term political addiction possibly resist such in-your-face temptation this close to home? It’s like having a chocolate addiction and being given the keys to the friggin’ Hershey Factory.

Now it appears another actor turned politician is poised to enter stage left and throw his hat in the ring. The formal announcement comes this week in Iowa’s capitol city. Hmm. I wonder if anyone would notice if I played hooky from school that day. Surely Mr. Thompson (or his security detail) won’t recognize me as the same person who climbed a rather large boulder to snap his picture at the Iowa State Fair several weeks back and nearly toppled over on him as he walked by.

Oh buddy, this is going to be a long political season…!

Do you have any addictions you struggled with, any ‘can’t miss’ shows or hobbies that steal your focus from time to time?

Uh, only the legal ones please, folks.

Until next week,

~Kathy 'Bullet Hole' Bacus~