This is my tenth post. I'm glad November has only 30 days. As this day got older I thought of several things I wanted to say; now I can't think of anything.
My memoir class met this morning. We are supposed to write a new story: someone who made a difference in our lives in grade school or junior high. I came to a big block on that one, also. Of course those teachers made a difference in my life. But it all seems ordinary to me now, looking back. I can't think of anything to write.
There is a wonderful post about Congress at Time Goes By today, written by Saul Friedman, who always writes wonderful posts. I agree with everything he writes about the buffoons we send to Washington, but I would add one thing. He speculates about why we keep these guys in office. One thing he doesn't mention is the terrifying lack of choice, or perhaps it's just terrifying choices when it comes time to vote. I think decent people just don't run for office. For instance: if I don't vote for Arlen Spector next year, all of my potential choices are worse. It's very depressing.