Observations

Thursday, 11:26 am

By Kate

May

24

2007

For about the third day in a row, I woke up in a cranky mood. Cranky with sprinkles of cynicism. I don’t like feeling this way, but a couple of days of paying close attention to the news does that to me.

Maybe it’s the feeling of being in an alternate reality. It’s disconcerting. Yesterday the press couldn’t talk about much other than the wonderful compromise struck between Congress and the President over the Iraq funding. I kept muttering, “But where’s the compromise?” At least I didn’t shout.

But the thing that just slayed me was Nancy Pelosi talking about this fabulous compromise piece of legislation that was a good first step, toward something. And it’s so darned fabulous that she’s not going to vote for it. That’s where reality disconnected for me. I suppose if you’re going to totally sell out, you still have to put the best face on things, but come on. That was just pitiful.

My indignation was given a voice last evening through the words of Keith Olbermann’s Special Comment. Thank you, Keith, but it still wasn’t enough to break crankiness’s firm grip.

We live in a screwy world where nothing seems to be called what it really is and politics is a shell game.

This morning, I had hoped to feel a little better about the world. The sun is shining and the air is warm and luscious with the scent of lilacs. What’s not to like about that?

But, I had to take the lad to work this morning. We had a pleasant enough drive and a steady stream of chatter. Then we reached the gated community where the country club resides.

On the long winding drive, into the community—one that’s bordered by immaculately manicured golf greens (and sprinklers) and beautiful lush landscaping (and sprinklers), we passed a number of female residents, resplendent in their fancy walking duds. They were hoofing it along, working in their morning constitutionals, while they were surrounded by the plebeian worker class. Mostly hispanic men who industriously shoveled mulch or pruned plants...gardener type stuff. The workers smiled and waved back. They were in a good mood.

The walking ladies, though? Nah. They simply did not take any pains to hide their disdain for the hired help or strangers cruising through their community. While these guys were busting butt making these gloriously coiffed and stylish ladies’ environment a thing of absolute beauty, the ladies walked wide circles around the gardeners as if they might catch something from being too close. It was so pronounced that it was painful. I wanted to jump out and slap them. Truly. There is no excuse for that.

The lad and I received our share of suspicious stares as well. Despite my crankiness, I smiled and nodded at them. Didn’t get a one in return, though. My response?

“&#@%! Republicans.”

Class warfare having one of its finer moments.

I passed the same stylish ladies on my way out and things hadn’t improved any. The workers smiled and nodded and waved back at me. A few shouted a cordial greeting. The ladies’ eyebrows arched in disapproval or distaste, I couldn’t be sure which was the more ascendant. I suppose that defined me as Not One Of Them, not that there was probably any doubt, anyway.

On my way out, I had to stop at the guard house to allow the guard to check me out and open the gate. I like these guards. They’re older fellows who have undoubtedly retired from their earlier life positions and are doing shifts at the community. It’s easy work and they seem to have fun. They’re also really friendly. While I stopped, the guard and I passed some idle chatter. Then I asked him, “Do you like working here?”

“Oh sure,” he said. Big grin. “You won’t find a better bunch.”

“Employees, you mean?” I asked.

“Yup.” he said with a wink. “We’re a close knit crew. We have a good time. Does you son like it here?”

“Yeah, he does. He likes his work mates, too. They do have a lot of fun.”

“See? There you go,” he said. “Is he going to be here all summer?”

“Yes, until August, I think.”

“Well, now that I know you, you won’t have to stop to sign in again. You’re one of the gang now.”

He waved me through with a wide grin and wished me a good day.

And that really should have improved my mood by leaps and bounds, but it didn’t. I thought about that all the way home. There is such a class division there. It is palpable. The thing is, based entirely on external signs, I’d be willing to place bets on who gets more enjoyment out of their day. I should take note. Smiles and good manners are easy enough. They’re free and they pay dividends. Especially if you give some back.

It’s a strange environment for an outsider. I don’t really have any irons in that fire, one way or the other, but observations are also free and they were low hanging fruit this morning.