My best friend in high school was different. Probably still is different today. Not really sure, we don’t talk that much anymore. Different parts of the world, different stages in our lives. Different! I the word, different because that is why I loved him so much. I loved his family. I loved their TV room. I loved their lack of morals. Now that I look back the morals weren’t lacking; they were just different than what I had seen on the Brady Bunch. Back in the day, I don’t want to give away the era but let’s just say, big hair, green hair, Duck Boots and white tube socks were all the rage. Any how, being different, unusual, standing away from the sometimes Maddening Crowd was not so cool during the era of Adam Ant. Being different took courage. It took fortitude and a style that wasn’t always fashionable.
My own sense of self changed during those four years in High School. Michael my amusing and provocative best friend only solidified my thoughts on the differences outside of my white girl world. That perhaps living and believing outside the box wasn’t that bad. Perfect example, we were for the most part inseparable yet, not boyfriend/girlfriend in the true sense of the connotation. One boy, one girl, just friends? Different?!
This whole mini revelation meant nothing to me until a warm bath and meditation over the day’s events. During the soak something turned the knob that hit the switch that made a light go on in my not diagnosed ADHD past forty head.
I had recently found myself involved, somewhat kicking and screaming, in the grassroots OBAMA campaign for Central NH. Sitting ‘round an overly stuffed with ego and caffeine parlor I began to wonder what the fuss was all about? Hemming and hawing. Finger pointing and name calling. Democrats, aristocrats, alley cats and cool cats. No matter, it appeared we all came for the same cause with different agenda’s.
OBAMA this, OBAMA that.
Seems to me and certainly I am not a politician nor do I practice politically correct behavior, that no matter the research; the Internet search, the taglines, the Blogs, the Obummer sites and the F-ck Obama smears, that one simple point is missing.
Mr. President pardon me but you are indeed different. And, for that matter, the way you are going about trying to achieve certain goals; just doesn’t jive. It’s just not normal.
Michael, my dearest friend. My mentor. My surrogate alter ego. Thank You. I’m okay with being different. Mr. OBAMA seems to be as well. Just appears that the Fashionable Crowd still has not got themselves over the idea that different can and should be the goal not a means to a nasty end.