The Candidate
"Lead in pipes, tainted water...let's talk about universal at-home testing, drinking trust and the need to demand the highest of standards," Megs asserted.
It wasn't the first time I held audience to her banter but it was probably the last. In a confident sweep, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilted the left corner for alignment. That moment of pause made her seem believable, that moment of pause would become her famous trademark someday.
The woman spent most of her time fighting the pull of gravity. Bulky frames were sported only when her contact lenses became dry and unbearable. Behind those specs, however, Megs was the kindest soul that I had ever met with a contrasting ability for telling it like it was. She would have done well as a stand up comedian with her impeccable timing and bluntness, but her heart was set on making a difference in another way. Politics. Megs was answering a call to change the world. The dorm room mirror aided her as she perfected her banter while I crammed through my notes for final exams.
"We've lost our pride... somehow, somewhere, abandoned...pride in country, pride in self...pride in drinking water. Somewhere along the way, we've surrendered our souls to the big corporations of this world, deep pockets with big mouths...we've offered naysayers more time and attention than they deserve. Why? Because they make the most noise, because they have more influence? They have become the squeaky hinge plated with 24k gold... "
"I assert there are two sorts, those that can and those that can't. The can't-s conveniently adopt a platform of nitpick and complain in opposition to common decency...they accuse, they abuse the rules...they support toxic waste throughout our government while the cans, simply roll up their sleeves and do."
"I hear you!" I declared while grinning from ear to ear. I began to clap with enthusiasm, as if I were one of thousands packed in an auditorium. Meg's allocution was hypnotic. The slight grin that fell upon her lips was the only visible sign that she knew. Megs held a great power.
"Yes, those who lack imagination instill fear, those that hold great vision, work hard for a better tomorrow. Pure water, a simple drop...the elixir of life now tainted...absorbed into the teardrop of the common voter. Those tears must become the magic potion to transform our government."
"You should run for office!" I declared half joking.
"I might just do that...someday perhaps." Megs began to chuckle while adjusting her collar. Her stance was surefooted, folding into a destiny that was all hers to claim. She was the president of our mirror and that reflection would carry her. Practicing, always practicing for the next opportunity to speak. She was the perfect candidate running for office, ready to lead us into the future.
That was fifteen years ago, just days before we graduated from college. Megs...who gave the most wonderful speech at commencement, Megs who was applauded with a standing ovation. In the hours after was the last I'd see of my pal. She went her way and I went mine. East coast to west coast with a lot of distance in-between. At first there were letters and a few phone calls, but then life happened and our friendship deflated.
When I learned Megs was running for senate I wasn't surprised. She had always been set on doing, she was an organizer, going the distance for the cause...and of course there was her special brand of candor that served her well. Through her keen choice of words and the snap of I get it, I get you, delivery was everything...and she knew how to chop and slice with precision to motivate a crowd. Senator was her third wrung up. I couldn't help but wonder how far her ladder would extend someday.
After Megs gave mention of me as her long lost friend on national television, I should have anticipated a reporter showing up on my doorstep. Knock, knock, knock. The baby is fast asleep...please, I'm coming...hold your horses. No phone call? Shame on you. I smiled anyway, I pretended anyway. "Hello."
Megs and I were inseparable in college, a mismatched set of life experiences. Megs was born into money and she basically coasted along. I, on the other hand, went into debt for my education. I worked three jobs while she enjoyed the free wind blowing through her sail. Unfair maybe, the luck of the draw maybe, old money versus blue collar, abundance versus scavenge for every crumb on my plate.
"Yes, I knew Megs back in the day..." Odd, in that moment, I thought not of my friend but of my hair. The strands wouldn't cooperate that morning and I stood with a mop of horns sprouting in all directions. Three clicks of a shutter and I was frozen. I would forever be known as Meg's friend Medusa, a most pitiful sight.
I had been working on painting the spare room a soft violet when the doorbell interrupted. My university t-shirt was tattered, a painter's uniform. I smiled anyway, I stood proud anyway...because of the admiration I held for my best friend from way back when. Megs.
"Thanks for your time," the chap said as he hurried down the walkway after. I smiled, then waved, shuddering in disbelief. My best is when I'm at my worst for strength of character is not what we wrap ourselves in, but instead proven by how real we are...warts and all...or in my case, horns, blisters and lilac paint.
On the other side of the mirror across many miles of country, Megs stood with great anticipation, as ready as I had always known her to be. She was a woman destined for leadership...a friend to me and if everyone could see through the political mudslinging and vote in her favor, a friend for us all.
It wasn't the first time I held audience to her banter but it was probably the last. In a confident sweep, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilted the left corner for alignment. That moment of pause made her seem believable, that moment of pause would become her famous trademark someday.
The woman spent most of her time fighting the pull of gravity. Bulky frames were sported only when her contact lenses became dry and unbearable. Behind those specs, however, Megs was the kindest soul that I had ever met with a contrasting ability for telling it like it was. She would have done well as a stand up comedian with her impeccable timing and bluntness, but her heart was set on making a difference in another way. Politics. Megs was answering a call to change the world. The dorm room mirror aided her as she perfected her banter while I crammed through my notes for final exams.
"We've lost our pride... somehow, somewhere, abandoned...pride in country, pride in self...pride in drinking water. Somewhere along the way, we've surrendered our souls to the big corporations of this world, deep pockets with big mouths...we've offered naysayers more time and attention than they deserve. Why? Because they make the most noise, because they have more influence? They have become the squeaky hinge plated with 24k gold... "
"I assert there are two sorts, those that can and those that can't. The can't-s conveniently adopt a platform of nitpick and complain in opposition to common decency...they accuse, they abuse the rules...they support toxic waste throughout our government while the cans, simply roll up their sleeves and do."
"I hear you!" I declared while grinning from ear to ear. I began to clap with enthusiasm, as if I were one of thousands packed in an auditorium. Meg's allocution was hypnotic. The slight grin that fell upon her lips was the only visible sign that she knew. Megs held a great power.
"Yes, those who lack imagination instill fear, those that hold great vision, work hard for a better tomorrow. Pure water, a simple drop...the elixir of life now tainted...absorbed into the teardrop of the common voter. Those tears must become the magic potion to transform our government."
"You should run for office!" I declared half joking.
"I might just do that...someday perhaps." Megs began to chuckle while adjusting her collar. Her stance was surefooted, folding into a destiny that was all hers to claim. She was the president of our mirror and that reflection would carry her. Practicing, always practicing for the next opportunity to speak. She was the perfect candidate running for office, ready to lead us into the future.
That was fifteen years ago, just days before we graduated from college. Megs...who gave the most wonderful speech at commencement, Megs who was applauded with a standing ovation. In the hours after was the last I'd see of my pal. She went her way and I went mine. East coast to west coast with a lot of distance in-between. At first there were letters and a few phone calls, but then life happened and our friendship deflated.
When I learned Megs was running for senate I wasn't surprised. She had always been set on doing, she was an organizer, going the distance for the cause...and of course there was her special brand of candor that served her well. Through her keen choice of words and the snap of I get it, I get you, delivery was everything...and she knew how to chop and slice with precision to motivate a crowd. Senator was her third wrung up. I couldn't help but wonder how far her ladder would extend someday.
After Megs gave mention of me as her long lost friend on national television, I should have anticipated a reporter showing up on my doorstep. Knock, knock, knock. The baby is fast asleep...please, I'm coming...hold your horses. No phone call? Shame on you. I smiled anyway, I pretended anyway. "Hello."
Megs and I were inseparable in college, a mismatched set of life experiences. Megs was born into money and she basically coasted along. I, on the other hand, went into debt for my education. I worked three jobs while she enjoyed the free wind blowing through her sail. Unfair maybe, the luck of the draw maybe, old money versus blue collar, abundance versus scavenge for every crumb on my plate.
"Yes, I knew Megs back in the day..." Odd, in that moment, I thought not of my friend but of my hair. The strands wouldn't cooperate that morning and I stood with a mop of horns sprouting in all directions. Three clicks of a shutter and I was frozen. I would forever be known as Meg's friend Medusa, a most pitiful sight.
I had been working on painting the spare room a soft violet when the doorbell interrupted. My university t-shirt was tattered, a painter's uniform. I smiled anyway, I stood proud anyway...because of the admiration I held for my best friend from way back when. Megs.
"Thanks for your time," the chap said as he hurried down the walkway after. I smiled, then waved, shuddering in disbelief. My best is when I'm at my worst for strength of character is not what we wrap ourselves in, but instead proven by how real we are...warts and all...or in my case, horns, blisters and lilac paint.
On the other side of the mirror across many miles of country, Megs stood with great anticipation, as ready as I had always known her to be. She was a woman destined for leadership...a friend to me and if everyone could see through the political mudslinging and vote in her favor, a friend for us all.
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