Blog: As Agonizing as Waiting Outside of the Delivery Room

Been there, done that five times. Though, with each succeeding birth, I became as relaxed as a turtle sitting on a log, dozing off intermittently, and offering words of encouragement to frst-time fathers, who were often as nervous and jumpy as a goat, and feeling as if they were on the edge of a frozen pond, forced to go forward without knowing how thick the ice was.

But the suspense and anxiety that enveloped those blessed events (wanted or unwanted as they may be), are equalled or surpassed  by the gut wrenching, protracted build up leading to the election of a president, with either Romney being the newborn one or Obama being reborn. 

One thing for certain, is twins they’d never be (fraternal or identical), albeit they bore a striking resemblance to one another in the third debate, both in their well scripted discourse and cockiness, with neither getting the nod over the other in vying for the political equivalent of Hollywood’s Academy award for Best Actor.

And while the critics reviews were as mixed as those of judges in a beauty contest, it did provide a respite from our daily woes and a form of entertainment to compensate for the added weight viewers put on gouging themselves on the food they consumed from the repeated trips they made to the fridge during that the 90 minutes.

In my rating system, I would class it as the same as a ”B” movie, with Parental Guidance highly recommended, so as not to befuddle the minds of the young more than they already are, by exposing them to hyper-ventilated rhetoric and histrionics characteristic of most political debates. (They’d benefit much more in watching the History, Learning and National Geographic channels than in seeing those two going after one another’s jugular, with no quarter.)  

We can breathe a collective sigh of relief, however, in knowing there’ll be no public clamor for re-runs, with only future historians, political science majors, and wanabee presidents viewing them as a learning lesson as to what image they do and don’t want to portray; and, above all, how to go about avoiding the pitfalls and traps set for them, which would make them look as stupid and ill-pepared for that lofty office as if he’d stood in line twice when the brains were being handed out (not to mention the fodder it would provide for the late-night comedians).

So, load up on the goodies before the grand finale on November 6, keep a bottle of Tums for the tummy handy, cans of beer or sronger drinks (if needed to bolter one’s confidence in the outcome); and for those families and friends in which opposite sides have been taken, to make a solemn pledge not to let the final results drive a permanent wedge in their relationships, let alone being dropped from their Christmas card/gift lists. (Cross your heart?)