When reading Anne’s many diatribes on Salon, or her book, Operating Instructions soon after Gabriel was born, I have in the past felt like I should give her a call to chat about God. But now, after reading her A call to arms this evening, I’m sure of it: If I were a Christian, I’d go to Anne Lamott’s Church.
Before you get too excited about my new-found religious zeal, I must admit that just last night I was contemplating becoming Buddhist after a particularly wonderful yoga experience until Matt sagely commented “Isn’t yoga Hindi?” (You are so right! There I go, mixing up my Eastern religions again. My brother the religious studies minor would be so proud!) So I’m not really the best person to ask about religion, especially because I can neither confirm nor deny how much red wine I may have guzzled since my husband headed to California on Sunday.
But I will say that Anne Lamott is not the only person out there who is feeling a need to meditate, or pray, or do something to respond to the recent blatant propaganda, venom and fear-mongering dished out by McCain, Palin, and their crew. The bliss of my media-free week in the mountains of Idaho rapidly diminished upon my return, and I needed Lamott’s pep-talk this evening more than ever.
As always, she handles her grief and frustration with a deft comic hand, asking everyone who is literally fuming over the deception and absurdities of Republican presidential ticket to go out and take a spin on the Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator.
So, now that I’ve changed my name to Shank Piston in honor of the Chief Executive of the great state of Alaska, I will share some of my favorite excerpts from Anne’s article:
On Sarah Palin: “I hate to criticize. And I love to kill wolves as much as the next person does. But this woman takes such pride in her ignorance, doesn’t have a doubt in the world about her messianic calling, that it makes anyone of decency feel nauseated — spiritually, emotionally and physically ill.”
Now, I am a reform Christian, so it is permissible for me to secretly believe that God hates this woman, too. I heard God slam down a couple of shooters while she was talking the other night.
Me too, God, me too!
On what we can do to change things: “This is the only way miracles ever happen — left foot, right foot, left foot, breathe. Right foot, left foot, right foot, breathe. The great novelist E.L. Doctorow once said that writing a novel is like driving at night with the headlights on: You can only see a little ways in front of you, but you can make the whole journey this way. It is the truest of all things; the only way to write a book, raise a child, save the world.”
I met two women outside the grocery store today who were registering folks to vote. In the brief time I was there, they got totally dissed by one person who flung some sort of anti-liberal shot at them (they were not wearing campaign buttons or mentioning party affiliation at all and yet by the act of trying to encourage democracy through participatory government, were instantly labeled heretical liberals) and were chagrined when they approached someone who was a convicted felon (and thereby legally unable to vote). So when I walked up, I tried to do my part, because with two little kids, I’m not going to be out registering voters in the Vitamin Cottage parking lot any time soon. I looked them straight in the eye and sincerely thanked them for doing something so crucial to our form of government and our way of life in this country: standing up for what they believed in and doing their part, one baby step at a time…