In the Sandbox

I am bored. Stiff. To tears. To death.

At the beginning of this campaign season – yeah, way back then – I was excited, hopeful, in full, blooming, optimistic splendor. Yes, the country had its head in the crapper; we were at war with everyone on some front (including ourselves); the economy was tilting, if not yet teetering; and, society hardly deserved the word. Even nature had rebelled against our tender mercies. We were a nation divided, and sunk in the kind of funk that only the abused can truly feel.

But, something glowed down that dark tunnel. The end of the current administration drew nigh. Even they were not bold enough to try to extend their power beyond constitutional boundaries. Would they? Naw – change was certain.

So, a slew of candidates paraded before us, polite, prepared, and well-behaved. If their staffs were hopeful, and their accountants nervous, that was all part of the early play. It was the message that mattered, and all were wedded to it, because little invested meant little to lose. Then the media helped to thin the herd, turning their cameras and microphones toward the brightest, most interesting, and determining who was viable in their own (smoke-free) backrooms. After that, we jumped into the sandbox, and the play became rough.

He said, she said. Hey – he hit me! That’s my bucket! No, it’s my turn! Why does he get more candy? You like him better! They said they’d be nice, but they’re being mean to me. Mom! You don’t like me because I’m black/I’m a woman/I’m old/I’m crazy. He’s too little! She’s a meanie! He’s stoopid – with two O’s! Mom! I’m not playing with you anymore; I’m playing with him! He’s not your friend; he plays with them! I’m not like him! Yes you are! You don’t know what you’re talking about! Oh – you think you’re so popular! You’re just a snob! You’re such a Britney! At least I’m not a Paris! Liar! Oh, will you just shut up! Get outta my sandbox! Mom!

On and on … until I’m stricken with sandbox fatigue. Dear God ...

UP NEXT: Meet me on the playground at 3 o’clock, if you know what’s good for you.