My last first date

It takes some people seven years to overcome one spell of bad luck. On the contrary, in my good fortune, I hope to squeeze more time out of this streak. With a memory as stale as a box of birdseed crackers in the far-back depths of the pantry, I’m often surprised to recall anything more distant than the bumps and scrapes I find scattered on my skin. Nonetheless, matters of great importance brand themselves on my subconscious mind, deciding to pronounce their presence periodically. It is one of these events that brings me to the page today as it dawns on me that I have long since experienced my last first date. Filled with joy, this is a date I can commemorate and celebrate today.

It should be noted that the foresight of the victorious should always be celebrated rather than questioned, as it makes for a far better narrative. With as much arrogance and certainty I’ve ever amassed, I was sure at the end of the night that I’d met someone special. Not only that, I was sure that she felt the same about me. Whether or not she had come the conclusion at the time is irrelevant, there can be no doubting the fact that this night had marked the end of something for us both: this was our last first date.

As I mentioned above, my propensity for misplacing memories must be kept in mind, as it demonstrates the magnitude of this special day. I can recall with extreme detail every thought, feeling, and sensory experience that day held for me. I remember the conversation leading up to the day, the late night planning session leading to our meeting and the discussions laying out logistical concerns. I remember her curfew, and the weight of adhering to the expectations of unknown overwatching eyes being eased by that weightless feeling of being held in a perfect moment. I remember the pressures of a solid first impression, and the charm that can be found within a valiant yet imperfect effort. I remember clear skies, junk food, chain swings, small talk, big laughs, and feeling at home in a new place. As if I knew these were the memories worthwhile of holding on to, I remember what it was like to hope for love. On this day, which marks a seven year journey together, I thank you for making my last first date such a memorable evening.

If Politics were a Boardgame

After having read a few different posts and articles discussion political issues and promises, I got to thinking about what it might be like to be a politician. Part of me even thinks this sort of a job would be something I might be good at: working alongside a group of motivated people, thinking and discussing long term visions, public speaking at various events and fundraisers, among other responsibilities. But whenever I find myself thinking about politics, I am always struck by the realization that (assuming the best of those who run) there is a great disappointment in wanting to deliver on various promises and being unable to for whatever logistical reasons. I think that weight would be a great burden, and that contrary to occasionally popular opinions, the men and women serving in office do have the best of intentions in their service.

All that said, today's cynical thought that has me writing at this particular hour rests on the hypothetical scenario of me holding a position in political office. My focus specifically narrowed, knowing my competitive nature and strong will, on the question "what if I treated politics like a boardgame?" Those who've played with me before might attest to some less than exemplary tactics in the name of the game and victory, so assuming that I came with that same determination, what would I do in such a position?

First, I'd take stock of my opponents. Are they the type to strike first? Do I have necessary counter measures set up for when they do come at me? Can I gain their trust? Can I balance their trust with that of their other opponents? Do I have what I need to both appear unimposing while solidifying an advantageous position? It is here that I would start the process. I think, if I were playing to win, the media would be my number one tool of attack to keep things in my favor. You can guarantee that I'd be well-researched and focus-grouped to ensure maximum impact. You can also guarantee that I'd feel the need to bend the truth to accomplish my goals. If victory is my aim, I would need to use a strong public presence, and perhaps an even stronger presence behind closed doors.

Once my initial moves are decided, I think I'd need to start laying vision. Unfortunately, if my goal is to become elected or to hold a position, my vision would be equal parts areas of actual need and areas of strategic value. One false move, swaying too heavily in either direction, could undo all of the efforts I'd put forth. Philosophically, I'd fully support public services. In reality, my push on these topics would reflect the opinions and wills of the voters. I think my entire platform would hinge on who I'd be looking to woo, how helpful their support would end up being, and my gauge of their eventual disappointment in the event that I don't follow through.

When it comes to talking points, I'd be equal parts car salesman and stand-up comedian. I'd throw out relevant, though complicated, information to both demonstrate a keen understanding of the issues while limited potential blowback. I'd couple that with charm and humour, deflecting any possible criticisms to the best of my ability while also endearing myself to the public. Again, too aggressive an approach on either side would be costly so I would keep both ends in check to the best of my ability.

I think I could go on and on, with potential scenarios and my responses, but this whole process does one thing for me; it helps me to realize that those who run have a particular set of goals that manifest in ways that, while I don't appreciate, I can ultimately understand. Does it make it palatable? Not at all. But, it does help me to remain grounded when people levy personal attacks on these men and women. I wonder what people would say about me if I were in their position. As much as I'd like to say I'd be the same person I am now, I feel like there's always a chance that the game would take over, and my desire to win would have me as vilified as any I've had the urge to criticize. Maybe not. Maybe I'd solve all the crises and balance the budgets and everyone would get ice cream and be happy. The realist in me says I'd be somewhere in the middle, but the experience of running this scenario is enough to give me reason to hesitate when my disappointment moves me from contributing to a discussion or debate to personal attacks or the desire to abandon my part in the democratic process.

How would you really play, if it were your turn to roll the dice?