Confessions of a Delinquent Blogger

Bless me readers, for I have sinned. It's been 12 days since my last blog entry and these are my excuses:

• 1. I've been studying for my state licensing.
• 2. I've been studying for my state licensing.
• 3. I've been studying for my state licensing.

You get the picture.

This morning as I meditated, it occurred to me that I hadn't made a brain dump in quite a while. That's how I like to think of these little journaling sessions--brain dumps. Sometimes they're intellectual musings, sometimes pure babble whimsy. But I'm rather committed to them. They started as a discipline with my gardening project. But they evolved into something more complex, less tangible.

And today it hit me.  I'm feeling GUILT because I've let my blogging slide. Oh, I've had very good reasons, but still, there's that sense of remorse. What started as a spiritual, existential exercise has now become a "task," one more thing to check off my "to do" list. When did my big ego attachment to accomplishment, morph my joy of writing into...well...work? There I go again, forgetting that I'm a human being--not a human doing.

And yet, I've missed this time at my blog, the assertive stroke of fingers against keys, pouring forth words of creative joy and angst. So as my penance/privilege, I vow to visit as often as I possibly can, not because of any sense of obligation, but because I can think of no place I'd rather be. It's the same activity, but the motivation makes all the difference. And...I surrender to the task.

"...when God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work--this is a gift of God. That man seldom reflects on the days of his life, because God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart."   Ecclesiastes 5:19

And Now for Something Totally Different: The Signs of the Season

Ah, September! The turning leaves, the smell of wood smoke, the chill in the air. Okay, so that’s someplace else. Here in the desert, the shift in seasons is a bit more subtle. I can always tell when autumn is "in the air." I'm serenaded at 7:00 am by the cadence of drums and horns from marching band practice at the high school. When you can tolerate drinking a morning cup of hot coffee, sitting on your patio (without accompanying hot flashes,) it's a good indicator that summer is waning.

We in Havasu observe a sure heralding of the change in season, more predictable than geese flying south for the winter, more certain than critters growing a heavy coat. It’s the invasion of the campaign sign. No sooner does Labor Day dictate the return of kids to school and the packing away of white sandals, than election banners pop up on every corner like Scorpion Weed after a spring rain.

In a community which prides itself on tight control of advertising banners, campaign signs seem oddly incongruous. They sprout overnight like teenage acne the day before the prom, first one, then another until an entire lot is covered. Since vacant lots in Lake Havasu have become increasingly scarce, what lots there are become literally (and litterly) overrun with bigger and brighter signs. Can anyone driving by even distinguish among the names? And please explain to me the need for more than one of the same banners posted on the same lot. Does the possibility of monsoon winds mandate more than one sign be placed just in case one blows away? And what intellectual proposed the notion a candidate's name on a piece of cardboard will guarantee voters will vote for said individual? Obviously not an environmentalist. How many trees died to stake that elective hopeful's claim?

For the sake of investigative honesty, I Googled "campaign signs" to learn how they're made. Most are not manufactured solely from wood pulp, but from a combination of poster board coated with plastic. One manufacturer boasted their signs would survive a nuclear winter! Yikes!

The same website proposed you only need five things to get elected, and I quote: "Name recognition, a couple of good issues, name recognition, name recognition, and name recognition." Some of our local candidates appear to have been drinking the Koolaid. I take offense to the assertion that the average voter makes his/her decisions in the ballot booth based on how many times they've encountered someone's name while driving down the highway. Yesterday I counted 28 campaign banners on the way to work. (I stopped counting at 28 when an exasperated driver cut me off, honking.) 

This fixation with campaign signs got me to thinking--someone should put a stop to this madness. Perhaps we need a candidate who is willing to run on one issue--a ban on campaign signage. I'm not volunteering for the job--I'm no martyr. After all, how would I get my message out there? But as long as campaign signs continue to sprout on the horizon I shall mount the charge in search of a suicidal champion who might agree with me. Anyone out there? I'm waiting for the Universe to send me a sign.