I have to admit to being more than a bit frustrated these days. Despite a majority of Americans believing in the issues our party stands for, we got clobbered in last November's midterms. Despite a valiant effort by Elizabeth Warren, the Cromnibus bill passed easily. And while I'm not one of those who is bitterly disappointed by Barack Obama's performance, he could have done a lot more for America's working class. Although I think our pretty much presumed nominee in 2016, Hillary Clinton, will be far better than any bozo the republicans put forth, I don't expect the economic fortunes (or environmental fortunes or labor fortunes or...) of our poor and middle class to improve all that much under her leadership.
Frankly, I've been thinking of calling it quits on my blog and all the letters and e-mails I send to Congress each week, to talking about our party's vision with co-workers and neighbors who may be on the fence, and spending some quality time getting caught up with shows like Breaking Bad or Mad Men (neither of which I've seen so much as a single episode despite their rave reviews and popularity) and every Oscar winning film of the last five years (again, zero seen). To borrow a phrase from Jackson Browne's "The Pretender," I was thinking of becoming a happy idiot while I struggled for the legal tender, and let somebody else fight what I was seeing more and more as a losing battle: the fight for a fairer economy in America.
I stopped considering it this morning...
Like many Americans, my wife and I got our fannies booted quite good during the Great Recession. She lost her job working for a mortgage company in 2009 and hasn't found one since. I lost my job when the large retailer I was working for chose to close the store I was working in. Though I was fortunate enough to find another job within three months, I also took a significant cut in pay. Just paying for the basics we've burned through our savings and most of our 401k money. We've lived literally paycheck to paycheck for so long we forget what it was like to not pinch every penny.
This month my wife's retirement money ran out, and we were going this morning to close out her savings account. We were also going to desposit my change collection over the past year--last Christmas I got worried that we wouldn't have any money for Christmas this year and started saving all of my change so our ten-year-old son could at least have a few Christmas presents in 2014. He won't be getting an iPhone, but I managed to save a little over a hundred dollars (and we're fortunate for it--I now work for a non-profit that helps those in need and we get calls daily from folks who would love to have a hundred dollars for food let alone Christmas presents for their kids).
We keep a small amount of cash hidden in the house for emergencies, and before we left for the bank this morning I wanted to check it to make sure we still had enough to cover any small ones. While checking it I told my wife that if things didn't get better for us financially this year, either, at least we'd have the hidden money for our son's Christmas next year.
At which point she started crying. I immediately put my arms around her and told her it would be alright, that we'd made it this far, and that we'd figure it out somehow. And then she said the words that made me stop considering pulling out of the political fight for a fairer America: "It's all my fault."
Even though she hadn't expressly said it, I knew what she meant. We were struggling because she hadn't been able to find a job. At that point, I started crying too, and I told her, "Don't you believe that. Don't you ever believe that. You are a wonderful wife and mother. This is Wall Street's fault. This is George W. Bush's fault. You are everything that is right with this country. It is not your fault."
And so I will continue my half-ass blog with its three regular readers. I'll keep sending letters and e-mails to my congresspersons even if they don't listen or care (by the way, thanks Sen. Stabenow for being one of the gutless 32 Dem Senators who voted for Wall Street and not Main Street with the Cromnibus bill). I'll keep talking to my co-workers and neighbors even if they think I'm a goofball. I might not make two shits worth of difference between now and whenever I take my last breath, but at least I'll know that I kept fighting until the end.
For my wife and every good American like her.