Real World

Right before the 2004 Presidential Elections, I got it into my head that I wanted to be a political blogger. I designed a confetti-like red, white and blue background and opened a blog. Sort of. I called it “I Don’t Know Anything About Politics” because I don’t, and I wrote three entries.

I thought it would be interesting to record the thoughts, observations and questions of an environmentally aware, female college democrat voting for the first time. Someone who watched activism swirl all around her but stayed out of it all to avoid a) appearing ignorant b) appearing dumb c) getting in over my head and d) getting too wrapped up in it. Yes, I am one of the shameful Americans who hesitate to get involved. Guess what? Politics is an overwhelming subject. Also, politicians are intimidating. And one more thing: college activists can be downright scary!

After a week or so, as campaign excitement began to heat up on campus, I stopped thinking “This is great, I’ll learn a little something and get to participate, indirectly, in the big election of my college career –call me Wonkette 2.0!” and started thinking, “Wait, I don’t know anything about politics.” Maybe I wasn’t ignorant, but I was certainly naive and easily distracted and seeing classmates who were all fired up made me feel a lot like a fraud. It didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore, hiding my own political illiteracy and bewilderment behind the premise for a blog.

But if I had been ambitious [and brave] enough to stick with the idea, I would be following the Confirmation Hearings for Supreme Court Nominee Samuel Alito.

Let me start by saying, until they were broadcast on MA Public Radio at work, I didn’t even know what a Confirmation Hearing was (even though the last sessions were held for John Roberts in the fall. Case in point: I’m oblivious). I thought, “Look, my country is a democracy and this guy is going to have to prove himself!” How can you go wrong when all those Senators asking the tough questions and getting straight to the dirty facts? (Dirty facts is a political term, right?)

I decided to do some research about the confirmation hearing process, and a couple of things impressed me: everybody had a chance to speak and there are at least two rounds of questioning – opportunities for follow-up discussions – and even a third round if the senators want more time. And from what I was hearing on the radio, it sounded like the Dems were making their case.

But then I remembered a little thing called confirmation bias. Of course it sounded to me like ‘my side’ was ‘winning,’ I was unconsciously tuning in to hear the Democrat Senators speak and minimizing or tuning out completely when a Republican’s turn came. Meanwhile, I knew that I didn’t even have my own strong conviction for or against Judge Alito, so I felt a little pretentious rooting against him by Democrat-Default.

Judge Alito is expected to be confirmed on Tuesday and it doesn’t even look like I’ll get a filibuster out of it. It looks like it’s time to put the politics back on the shelf and start reading shopping blogs again.

Baseball season, for me, starts a little earlier every fall. Once a sport that I followed only on a game to game basis, in a moment of small talk with someone wearing the NY emblem screen printed on a t-shirt or stitched on a cap, or to distract myself from the whirring of the elliptical pedals in the gym, every game has become all extremities crossed for luck, a navy blue t-shirt hem frayed from being fidgeted between anxious fingers, and “what’s the score?”

I used to memorize names and lingo. As long as I knew what to look for, I could identify a big moment when I saw one. I knew who to applaud and who to fear, I liked saying “grand slam,” and if I paid enough attention to the little blue diamond in the upper-left hand corner of the screen, I knew when to cross my fingers and what play to cross them for, chanting under my breath, listening to the on-edge watchfulness in the commentator’s pauses.

Of course, it was all a scam. The whole time, I just tried not to cheer or gasp at the wrong moment, metaphorically kicking the ball between the other team’s goal posts.

It is through this hold-your-breath patience that I learn to love the baseball game a little more each season. I like that, with a little observation, I can predict the next move with a certain degree of accuracy. I like that everything you need to know fits into that little baseball diamond graphic in the corner of the screen. That leaves more room for the impatience, the fan hysteria, the grudges, the surprises, and the grand slams.