The blog has been down, so I’m glad to have it back. I can not believe how much has happened since I last wrote.
Let me try to finish up the BIG NIGHT WITH MRS. CLINTON before I move on to assundry other bits and pieces on life.
So, where were we? Ah, yes, yes. We were at Mr. & Mrs. Roy Spence’s house, hanging with Hillary! After she came into the backyard and we had our brief introduction, everyone’s conversation seemed more animated around me. The life of the party had arrived, and people were asking one another, “What do you want to ask her? Have you met her before?” or sharing stories about Bill or other parties they had attended. Some of us were talking about the war, Republicans, sex…how if the Republicans had more sex maybe there would be less war. My circle was extremely animated, as you can guess.
Anyhoo. Soon, after we had eaten some yummy nibbles and had a few sips of wine, we started gathering around a mic stand, under the star filled sky. The only thing that was really annoying me was these search lights that beam down on all of us, as if we are already under some facist regime (wait a minute…?!) and we have to be watched or we’ll do something naughty. Those lights have got to go. They have no pizazz. They ruined the atmosphere. Roy, if you are reading this, please reconsider the lights in your back yard. I suggest tikki torches and miners hats.
I was seated on the ground, the only one, like some big kid waiting for balloons and fireworks. I always end up feeling like the youngest person at these parties. I think cause I wear jeans and sit on the floor.
Or maybe cuz I can’t drink like other adults. I don’t know, but there I was, looking at knees all around me, waiting for something big to happen.
So, Roy gets on the mic, says some funny stuff, and introduces the next president of the United States (!!!!!!!!!!) Well, I felt important, like I’d just witnessed a coming out that was pretty rare…until Hillary took the mic and told us all that Roy means nothing of the kind, that we are only gathered to raise money for her Senate campaign, and for all the Republican press hiding in the bushes, you can erase that on your tape recorders, she hollers. We all laugh. (The funny thing about her statement, though, is that I had no doubt there were Republicans lurking in the bushes. There weren’t any, but it just seemed like it could happen. And the reason I knew there weren’t any because the Secret Service didn’t blink an eye. They didn’t inspect the rhodendron. They didn’t throw ice cubes to see if anyone would say, “OW!” This is why I could never be in the Secret Service.)
As I’m sitting there watching Hillary answer questions from the crowd, I hear a voice that I love. It is Lance. My knight. Standing about four sets of knees back from me. He is clear and calm (see, he could be in the Secret Service. He’d look good in those black shoes, too) and telling Hillary our Sunday School class has been wondering if the Democratic party is going to need to start introducing more of God and religion into their conversations because of the way in which the other party is raising, and using, this issue?
Well, Hillary took her time and gave a lengthy response. Because of the amount of time that has passed since I started writing about the evening, I can not even begin to quote her directly. However, she said she had no problem talking about God, and that God was important in her life, and that, most certainly, she felt that her party should be able to talk about God, but that our country was formed on the principal of seperation of church and state, and that we should respect those founding principals. (Or something close to this.) As she was speaking, she became more and more impassioned, until she was like Florence Henderson on fire (they kind of look alike to me, have you ever noticed that? Except that Hillary has a lower speaking voice and works with politicians.) Seriously, it was a resounding answer and everyone applauded.
I didn’t feel called to ask her a question at that time. I knew I would know when to ask her. And I was right to wait because, afterwards, I chatted with her in person.
And this is what we said:
Hillary: Oh, hello, again!
Hillary: (Insert Big Smile here)
Me: Mrs. Clinton, as you are a mom, and I am a mom, I wanted to ask you…how to I continue to make a difference in my daughters’ lives, and their future, when it seems so bleak?
Hillary: Well, now….you just keep doing what you are doing. You don’t give up. You stay strong, and show them how to stay strong. You do the best you can do.
Me: Ok. Alright.
Hillary: That’s really all any of us can do.
Me: Yes. Yes, of course…(Here is where I throw my arms around her, mother to mother, and give her a big hug. There is more I want to say, but in all reality, I just let go of all the words in my head and decided to just hug the lady. I think I am turning into Leo Buscaglia….)
Flash of photos, turn and smile to the camera, and she is talking to the next person (who, I believe was Lance!)
There you have it. It wasn’t a big question. It wasn’t a funny question. It wasn’t even a philosophical question. It just was what it was. (I get so nervous when I have to talk with famous people.)
More later…I’m making homemade lasagna, and the kids just came back from rounding up canned goods in the neighborhood for Caritas, so gotta go finish dinner.
2 Comments on “More About Hillary”
Derek doesn’t get it. Nothing is more important than how we raise our kids. Hillary did a remarkable job raising an extraordinary child in really extreme circumstances. More power to her adn more power to you!
I am very disapointed with your question for Hillary. Do you really see thing as so bleak? Life will never be just as we want it, but bleak? Wished you would have asked her a question about improving public schools or reducing homlessness (SP?)… But I must say I loved her answer: Do the best you can
It’s a great answer. One I give my wife, daughter and self. Do the best you can for as long as you can!
Things are not great, might not even be good, but they are a heck of a lot better than bleak.
Keep your chin up,
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