In case you haven’t been following politics lately, the Obama-Biden Democratic ticket was made official tonight. And if you didn’t know that already and your area code doesn’t start with a 303 or a 720, you probably weren’t aware that the Democratic National Convention is in Denver this year. Some of the most powerful political people in the country are within 20 miles of me, and I don’t care. In fact, it’s more than not caring. I actively want it to be over.
I think that’s a shame. This is the first presidential election that I have been in the professional working world for. I have a vested interest in taxes, economy, and the housing market. I work in an industry that relies on oil and gas to make a profit (and profits are large right now), but I also want to have a national policy that at least thinks about developing our own renewable resources.
Apparently politics isn’t about issues and relevant topics anymore. All I see on TV is advertisements about who is most unfit to lead the country. It’s no longer a campaign of this is what I can and will do; it’s a finger-pointing affair that just feels ugly to me.
Having the convention in Denver doesn’t help. Tonight’s local news featured about 2 minutes of weather, 1 minute of sports, and the rest was “Live from the Convention”. I realize it’s a big deal. Denver has a little bit of an inferiority complex compared to other large metro areas, and this is its time to shine. But of the 2 plus-million people in and around the city, almost everyone I’ve talked to has said they are staying as far away from downtown as possible.
On Monday, I was seriously considering trying to make it downtown one evening this week, just to see what it was like. We were at a playoff baseball game last fall and I really enjoyed that. But by Monday night, I was so done with anything politically related, I had lost all desire to go.
I might be wrong in saying that I want to be interested. I guess if I wanted to be interested enough, I would be. I would be watching the coverage and going to be a part of it. But I came home tonight and mowed our lawn and made some more zucchini bread and didn’t think about the former and possible future Presidents within 25 miles of my house.
And I don’t feel like I missed anything at all. The final election isn’t until November. This feels a little like seeing Christmas decorations for sale in August – a little too much, a little too soon.