I've talked to him many times about running for a national public office. He always says no. Apparently the $40-million fundraising task is a deal breaker for him. (Yes, my Texas readers...that's what it costs to run for US Senate in our 8,500+ voting precinct state. $40,000,000.)
So the fundraising is hair-raising. We are not millionaires. We do not know millionaires. We are pretty sure we do not want our political leanings to be owned by millionaires.
Not so for Ann and Mitt Romney, though, right? Their net worth is estimated at $250-million. Money, it seems, was not much of an issue for the Romneys in their deciding to make a $300-million run for President of the United States.
(That dollar figure just took my breath away.)
But it's not the absurdity of campaign spending I'm here to ponder today...it's the likeability bankroll of our candidates. This seems to be the high price of campaigning that gnaws at the Romneys. Have you noticed it?
Did you want to cry for the GOP nominee this week when he compulsively redirected an audience gathered to support him in Ohio? After opening remarks by VP candidate Paul Ryan, the crowd began to chant "Ryan! Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!" Poor Mitt stopped them for a lesson in chanting: "It's Romney! Ryan! Romney! Ryan!"
And then poor Ann....so irritated last week with members of the GOP who continue to find ridiculous ways to undermine their own candidate that she said in a radio interview, "Stop it! This is hard. You want to try it? Get in the ring."
Which brings me back to the love I have for my husband.
Yes - I am angry when he is treated with disrespect, dishonor, or disregard. In the kitchen, over granola and yogurt, I may stomp and rant and call names and threaten to send smelly cheese in the mail to people who treat my genius spouse in such ways.
But for the love of propriety and good karma, I would not make a public statement that even hinted of my feelings.
Ann - meet the wisdom of our mothers: You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
We love our enemies.
Do good to those who persecute us.
Turn the other cheek.
Fake it 'til we make it.
Does it hurt your stomach? Of course it does.
Do you need to throw something at the end of the day? Probably.
Is it therapeutic to take names and promise to kick butt someday? Well, maybe.
Does a public rant make you look like anything more than a whining, not-ready-for-Pennsylvania-Avenue, thin-skinned woman who's never been treated like much less than royalty in her life?
No. It does not.
So...stand by your man, Ann. I'm all for it. I get the indignity of the whole darned national popularity contest.
What I do not get is the PDO (public display of outrage).
Try some deep breathing.