| Welcome to the Cooperstown Crier |
|
||||||||||||
|
advertisement 
|
|
Dear Candidates, Campaign Managers, Political Analysts, Beltway Insiders, Capital Correspondents, and Sundry Media Types, If it’s not too much trouble, could you maybe just this once give me a little more credit? I know, I know. Elections are just around the corner, so underestimating me is the order of the day. Election time is that glorious season when you get to paint with the broadest brush you can find, cast the widest net and make your generalizations just as sweeping as possible. Remember when you started calling me a Soccer Mom? Ah yes, those were good times. And so what if the descriptor didn’t so much, um, describe the reality of who I was? While, yes, I was a mom, my child did not play soccer, a fact that technically would have disqualified me from the other Soccer Moms’ club. But hey, who needs the truth when you have demographics instead? Like a pitiful character on "Degrassi," you’re always after the one who couldn’t care less. From Soccer Moms, you turned your attention to NASCAR Dads. I assume that your demographers were astute enough to keep me out of that batch. Come to think of it, though, my husband was a father at the time, and we lived in the South. Might that have been enough to lump our family into the herd? Then a few years ago, you came so close to getting it right with us, but you got it completely wrong. You started talking about values. You came to the completely and utterly novel conclusion that SOME voters out there had made their decisions based on _ I know this sounds crazy _ how closely their personal values seemed to be exemplified by the candidates’ behavior. "Hey," I thought. "That’s me. That’s exactly how I decide which lever to pull or which arrow to complete." But you weren’t talking about me. You were talking about only a certain, narrowly defined set of values and only one candidate who purported to represent them. This election season has been no different. You’ve spent your time, and a considerable amount of money, convincing me that your opponents are devil-worshipping child pornographers who will turn the sacred halls of public democracy into shrines for cannibalistic blood feasts. And from Soccer Moms and NASCAR Dads and Values Voters, you’ve moved on to Applebee’s America, of which I am allegedly a citizen. Oh, this is rich. For just a moment (but only the briefest moment) I’ll ignore the subtext of sneering condescension you always, always, ALWAYS express for people who go about their lives in ways that don’t include $1,000 rubber chicken dinners and closets full of navy pinstripe Brooks Brothers uniforms. Instead, let’s see what it means to be an Applebee’s American. According to you, I’m looking for Connection Brand relationships. I want a Purpose Brand direction in my life. And I want to vote for a candidate who is full of Integrity Brand values. And the best part is that _ according to you _ I don’t require actual connection, purpose or integrity. I can be easily persuaded to buy something shiny and hollow that just looks like those things. Kind of like food at Applebee’s looks sort of like something you’d enjoy eating. Guess what. I don’t eat at Applebee’s. And before I buy something, I knock hard on it to see if it’s hollow. And I’m not alone. Elizabeth Trever Buchinger is a freelance writer who lies on surveys just to throw the curve. She can be reached at VillageWordsmith@hughes.net. |
Copyright 2007, Cooperstown Crier, Cooperstown, NY All rights reserved