One of the things my mom hated more than anything was when we, as kids, got dirty. There were seven of us. Back then there was no washer/dryer in the house. Dirty clothes were either washed by hand (in an emergency) or required numerous trips per week to the laundromat. While on the one hand she was resigned to the fact that kids who go outside to play get dirty. On the other, she really, really hated the whole business of dragging the wagon of clothes to the laundromat and spending 3 hours there while washing, drying and folding clothes.
It was a thankless job. While kids would ooh & ahh over a good meal or special treat, the only things she heard about laundry were complaints — something shrunk, something got discolored, something was missing. Sometimes, she’d get to the laundromat and find all the machines in use, requiring her to wait. And wait. And wait. Other times, when it was between paychecks (we were in the lower-income bracket), she’d have to portion the detergent she had on hand, picking through those clothes that were absolutely critical and leaving other laundry, like towels or sheets, until the next trip. Sometimes she had to choose which load got the remaining fabric softener. Most of the time it was dad’s t-shirts & underwear — she always felt guilty about that.
It was one of the very first chores that was passed on to certain of the kids. She had to be sure that whoever did it would use the right amount of soap, wait till the clothes were COMPLETELY dry, and fold them. Frankly, some among the 7 of us wouldn’t do it. It was boring, it was tedious and it took forever. When it was my turn, Mom would load up bags and do the sorting and even put little bags of detergent in each one so there was no waste. I hated doing it as much as she did. There was no end. No matter how many loads of laundry were done, you’d go home to find more things in the hamper. And sometimes a stain didn’t come out, or something shrunk, or a sock was missing and all you’d hear were the complaints. But laundry wasn’t optional. Clean clothes were needed so that dad could go to work, the kids could go to school and everybody stayed healthy. It had to be done and someone had to do it.
Setting aside those who sort of stumble into it or are carried by the tide of Fate, there are reasons that, proportionally, a veritable handful of people choose to become politicians. Some for the graft (let’s face it, there’s graft — fact of life, get over it), others for the aura of power and yet others because they want to “call the shots.”
Then there’s the category of folks who become politicians because they believe in the system. Because they want to make a difference. They are the ones who do America’s laundry. They recognize that in order for the American family to be able to go to work, and go to school, and remain healthy, someone has to step up and do the endless, thankless job of cleaning up messes. Sometimes they have to parse out the detergent & softener and sometimes they have to leave the towels or sheets in the hamper for the next trip, but day after day, month after month, year after year, they keep loading up the wagon with the things that need to be taken care of and haul it to the Capitol, hoping the machines are working and that they aren’t all in use. And generally, when they hear feedback, it’s the complaints. But they keep doing it because they get their satisfaction in seeing a mess cleaned up, however temporarily. I have to admit, it made me feel good when I’d hear Dad say, “Oh great! T-shirts are nice and soft!”
The job that we, as Americans, have once a year is figuring out who gets to do the laundry. One of our biggest obstacles is that, as a nation, we refuse to acknowledge that the people we choose must necessarily parse out the detergent, or leave the towels in the hamper or wait. And wait. And wait. We want to hold our officials to standards that even we could not meet — we want absolute honesty even though we would be appalled by the real truth; we want all of our individual laundry done (to hell with the other kids); we want nothing missing, nothing shrunk, nothing with a stain on it. We get to skip the actual chore and just reap the benefits of it getting done. So how do we make a decision? How do or should we choose who gets to do the laundry?
First, we have to set aside the party affiliation. Why? Because I don’t think you’ll truly find anyone on either side who is 100% on board with everything the party stands for once you get into the weeds of the whys and hows. Yeah, it all sounds great on paper, but when theory is put into action and it’s your grand-kids whose lunch program is cut or your Social Security is decreased or when you have to pay your workers $15 and it’s coming off your already-slim profits — you complain.
Assuming we can set aside party affiliation, we then look at the people running. Not only what they’re saying or doing now but whether how they conducted their lives proves that they will use the right amount of detergent, wait for the clothes to dry completely and fold them carefully so nobody has to go back and iron the whole load. We have to ensure that the person we choose can tell the difference — when a choice has to be made — between what is urgently needed and what can be left in the hamper for the next trip. We have to choose the person who has the patience to wait if all the machines are in use until one becomes free. Finally, we have to go with the person whose life exhibits a satisfaction in getting the family’s laundry done. Not just THEIR laundry, but the entire family’s laundry.
All of this year’s presidential candidates have warts and scandals of varying proportions. It’s just the way it is. I doubt there’s anyone alive who doesn’t have something (or more than one thing) that they wish they could do over, have avoided, not have done or that they could forget. It’s called being human. The longer you’re on earth, the more success you have, the longer that list gets. There’s not a soul alive who is 100% sin and mistake-free. Until the coming of Jesus, there won’t be either.
But America’s laundry needs to get done. Once we acknowledge that Jill Stein and Gary Johnson won’t even be able to find the laundromat we are down to two choices — Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump. Both have spent a lifetime of doing the laundry; both have parsed out detergent and made choices as to which of the dirty things needed to be cleaned most urgently, so we move down the list. Both are wealthy; both have a record of achievement by different means.
So it comes down to this: who do we trust to make sure the clothes are all the way dry? To ensure that they’re folded properly and that the socks are matched so that it’s done right without ironing? Who has the patience to wait it out until the right time when a machine is free? Who do we believe will take satisfaction in getting the entire family’s laundry done (versus, for example, only THEIR laundry)? Finally, which is best able to handle the inevitable complaints over missing socks, shrunken clothes and stains that didn’t come out? Which of their lives exhibit that kind of attitude and behavior?
I think once anyone gets to this level, the choice is obvious.
By now, any engaged voter knows the achievements of each, so the question becomes the beneficiaries of their life’s efforts. In the case of Trump, it has been Trump. Always. It says so in big letters on each and every thing he’s touched — “TRUMP.” In the case of the Clinton, it has been women and children, minorities and elderly.
Nothing in Trump’s actions, past or present, inspire me with the faith that he won’t skim a few dimes off the dryer and leave America with some seriously damp clothes, or that he won’t use all the fabric softener on HIS clothes, or that he won’t spitefully toss one of each pair of my socks in the gutter because I complained. Nothing in his actions, past or present, lead me to believe that he has the discipline to wait until the machines are free rather than saying “Screw it!” and just making dirty laundry LOOK clean by folding it. He’s done nothing to make me believe he cares if his fellow Americans wear dirty clothes as long as his are clean.
Hillary Clinton has exhibited a lifetime of the discipline and willingness to do America’s laundry the right way. I trust her to make sure the detergent and softener are parsed as needed among ALL the clothes; that they will be completely dry the first time, that the socks will be matched and the laundry will be folded. She has a record of exhibiting the patience to wait until a machine is free. She has 30 years of taking criticism without tossing one of every pair of socks in the gutter. She gets satisfaction and fulfillment from seeing her fellow Americans in clean clothes.
And that’s why she’ll get my vote.