Playing Crap in Vegas

Had it not been for an eleventh hour "happy anniversary on your divorce wish" from a close friend, the occasion would have passed unnoticed, at least by me. Oddly, I kept thinking the date -- which is conspicuous by virtue of an unlikely symmetry of numbers --  rang a bell, but I could not for the life of me figure out why. Solid evidence of life moving in a good direction despite a deteriorating brain. Youth may be wasted on the young, but happiness is never wasted, no matter how thick the fog.

Though my memory may appear to have become selective, I am fairly certain that neither one of us has actually forgotten the occasional misery of our less than ideal marriage or the relentless torture of our drawn out divorce. It's just that the animosity no longer serves a purpose, especially now that the lawyers have been paid. With precious little opportunity these days to piss each other off, our relationship is not unpleasant. Our children have progressed from being bothered by our amicability to simply not being amused by it. Given that they were never amused by us -- either singly or together, at least not in an "I'm laughing with you" kind of way -- this is good.  Maybe as good as it will ever get, but I'll take it.

As apolitical as I am inclined to be -- being on different sides of the aisle did not factor into the break-up of our marriage, except maybe when I accused him of being a bit stodgy -- I could not wait to watch the final Republican debate last night. Animosity may not serve a purpose in my own life, but it sure is entertaining. As the candidates filed onto the stage, it seemed an SNL skit in the making, really writing itself. I mused about costume design and captions. Ben Carson, retired neurosurgeon, a stethoscope dangling in front of his decidedly un-party-like blue tie; Chris Christie, former federal prosecutor, pizza stains dotting his shirt; Carly Fiorina, dragon lady CEO, holding a puppy. And maybe squeezing it a bit too tightly when Chris Christie talked about moms at the bus stop and dads at work. Seriously? Donald Trump. Always in costume.

Yes, animosity is entertaining, but it certainly doesn't seem to serve much of a purpose. Why can't they all just get along, like me and my ex? My take on the whole thing -- and this is coming from a place of embarrassing political ignorance -- is that the Republicans have finally figured out that being divided means being conquered, so they decided to pair up and battle each other in twos in an effort to at least cut the field by half. Sure, Carly seems smart, but she's just downright scary and unlikeable (not just a bitch but a skinny bitch) and, therefore, irrelevant, so she was nominated to be the "why can't we all just get along" ambassador. The one to remind everyone that the enemies are Obama and Hillary, and if the Republicans all waste time ganging up on the buffoonish Trump that still leaves a gang of eight front runners to divide the shrinking pie. Jeb got the Don, Rubio got Cruz, and Paul took on Christie. John Kasich and Ben Carson, well, they both seem nice.

There are plenty of wishy washy Hillary lovers out there (although, to her credit, at least she's not a skinny bitch), and let's face it, desperate times call for desperate measures. In the months to come, I can only hope politics will indeed make some strange bedfellows, and unlikely but productive alliances will arise out of the muck.

Gosh, with all this bickering, it almost makes divorce look tame. Terrorists and like minded folks notwithstanding, one of the things that makes us distinctly human is our will to survive.  Maybe a few handshakes across the aisle will help us.