Oh, the Pressure

     People are starting to ask for names, and suggest that I write about them.  Daisy, my daughter, started this morning: “Mom, you haven’t written about Daisy, yet.”  Then Mel chimed in, “I think it’s time for a Mel story.”  (I have a whole bunch of Mel stories in my back pocket – none of them flattering, and he knows it – but he harbors this fantasy of being on a billboard, like the Marlboro Man, or a on a bus kiosk, like the Gap ads – so maybe he doesn’t care what the stories are about.)

     I picked Mel’s name a couple of years ago, and he was fine with it; but now that I’m asking people to pick their own names I think he’s jealous.  When he heard that our daughter picked Daisy, our niece picked Winona (after a Dakota Princess, plus it means ‘first born’), and my sister-in-law picked Inga he started complaining about his name.   He said he wants something like “Lance” or “Buck”.  Come on, let’s not be ridiculous –the names have to fit the person, or I’m going to hit a terrible writer’s block. 

     All the excitement about picking names seems to be a sign that people are on board with Suburban Survival Kit 411.  Clearly, I haven’t been too offensive, yet.

     I was talking with some senior citizens, who live in Michele Bachmann’s district, and are not happy with her representation.  These people are tea drinkers, but not tea partiers.  If we took a poll of the Tea Party Caucus – how many, do you think, would be actual tea drinkers?  I, myself am a tea drinker.  (I love coffee too, but have a much more ambivalent relationship with coffee, as it makes me crabby and keeps me up at night.  I see tea as a more refined, less pushy option.)  In fact my brother brought back some first flush Darjeeling from Fortnum and Mason a couple of weeks ago – and I am hoarding it as if it is gold bullion. 

     Who are these Tea Party people anyway, and how did Michele Bachmann get to be head of them?  The over all impression I have is that they are the kind of people who expect dinner to be on the table, but have no sense of the shopping and preparation that went into the meal.  This is much like wanting roads without potholes, but not wanting to pay for them.  The other thing, which I am quite worried about, is that in the photos I have seen of Tea Partiers they appear to be baby boomers.  This means they really should be part of the T-Party - those who broke the dress code barrier back in the 60’s: liberating t-shirts from the underwear category.   How many of you remember when a person could disrupt  the status quo by wearing a t-shirt and jeans?   Well, I’ll bet a lot of the Tea Party members wear t-shirts and jean – and they probably don’t even remember the history of the fight for casual attire!