I am the voter America should fear. I know just enough about both sides to feel informed though I am not, I agree just enough with both parties to consider myself one of them, and disagree just enough with both parties not to. I am pro-life, but think that means that I am pro-everyone's life including the unwed mother and her disadvantaged unborn child and I have no idea how you can be pro-life and pro-war. I believe in socialized healthcare, but I also have a father whose small business cannot afford higher taxes. I don't like what has happened under Bush's leadership, but I am the worst combination of mercy and naivete . . . I kinda feel sorry for him, and I like his wife.
It gets worse.
A week ago, I'd have said that I am undecided but really I thought that I'd vote for Obama. My fluency on the issues or agendas came down to: McCain, tired and old; Obama, fresh and new. And I like his wife.
As early as last night, as I sit watching the RNC, I'm thinking, old old old. Stuffy old rich mean guys.
And then, the mom in me . . . yes, I fell hook line and sinker like an Alaskan salmon into the Republican party convention. I am the game that a bunch of old rich mean men on an NRA hunting expedition were hoping for. The trap? A confidant, intelligent, well-spoken hockey mom with great hair. I humbly admit that it has nothing to do with her policies. I am all but clueless when it comes to her experience. I have no basis for claiming that she is the right choice for Vice President. I am, quite simply, a stay at home mom with a secret wish to be a mom who can still take on the world. And have a great body and great hair. It is a shallow and image-driven as that.
So I have to give it to the Republican party. You knew there were tired, gullible moms like me out there who haven't had a haircut in six months, and that all we needed was someone with a baby in a sling to sway us. I like you, Sarah Palin. I don't like much about your party, but I would LOVE to see someone with a breastpump in the White House.