Puttin' On the Pants Suit

I'd love to say my offer to kick in the extra 72 cents for the woman's coffee was motivated solely by a generous spirit, but I'd be lying. It was six-thirty in the morning, and her poor preparation was the only thing that stood between me and my coffee. It could have gotten pretty ugly, and 72 cents was a small price to pay.

Everything worked out. The woman looked relieved, the barista wouldn't let me take on the added expense (she claimed I've done it before, which I don't remember), and within a few moments I was on my way, leash in one hand and a hot off the presses Christmasy cup of caffeine in the other. Better still, I ran into the woman a few minutes later, as we were both pulled toward each other by our dogs. She told me she has been going through a really difficult time, and my kindness had made her day. I gave myself a partial pat on the back, knowing I had at least appeared to be kind and generous. With any luck, the road to heaven is paved with partially good intentions.

A year ago today, I woke up cautiously optimistic, determined to purchase a white pants suit to wear as I watched the election returns later that evening with friends. I had no illusions about Hillary's imperfections, and I was reluctant to count any chickens before they hatched, but in my wildest dreams I could not have imagined that, hours later, she would lose to the most unworthy of opponents. I have comforted myself, all year, with hopes that the nightmare would be short-lived. I have taken comfort, also, in knowing that, had Hillary won, her tenure would have been made miserable. We would never have had such a unique opportunity to learn, as a country, how toxic our brew of arrogance and ignorance and complacency could be.

Despite all my good intentions, I have expended far more energy on hand-wringing than I have on doing something to effect change. I have preached to my own choir, and I have refused to listen to other voices. I have failed to recognize, all too often, that despite a shitload of bad intentions at the highest levels, our road to hell, this year, has been paved by a fair share of equally well-intentioned opposing viewpoints.

Virginia came out yesterday, in the rain, to vote. Bigly. We all need to do the same. With my apologies to Billy Joel, sooner or later it just comes down to a lot more than faith. Time to put our 72 cents in every chance we get, whether its motivated by generosity of spirit or a faint, selfish hope that something good will eventually come of it. Even a random act of impatience can make someones day.