torsdag, januari 12, 2006

Yeah, But Did The Poor Guy Die At Some Point, At Least?

A colleague is sick over the Alito nomination.

"Isn't there something I can do to stop it," she asks, with head on desk. Instead of saying the word "crying," she quips, "Pulling an Alito." She is sick over the prospect of having women's reproductive capacities deemed something less than a fundamental aspect of our very being, something not protected by our Constitution.

I let her go on about this for a two days, then asked, "Why all the fuss? It's our own fault, you know. We are 50% of the population and we have no clout. Women need to be in the legislature. We are ridiculously underrepresented, and we have no one to blame but ourselves. "

I am not saying that all women think alike or that we move as one unit, but I heard a joke the other day: "Some guy in the 15th century was hung, decapitated, then drawn and quartered. I gotta hunch there was no woman involved in deciding that punishment."

Anyway, I'm doing my part. Every day I tell my daughter, "You will not be a lawmaker. Do you hear me? I forbid it. Don't even think about running for office, young lady." It's guaranteed to get her in the Senate.