Yey, Me Part II

I think we'll make this a series. The Yey, Me series.

I'm a Georgia voter yet again. I voted in today's excruciatingly exciting Dekalb County primary election. I got to vote for a bunch of people who were running unopposed, one candidate that I had kind of heard of and one that I actually met. I also voted for something that I am completely clueless about. It read something like this:

Shall the Act be approved which provides a homestead exemption from DeKalb County School District ad valorem taxes for educational purposes in the amount of $2,500.00 of the assessed value of the homestead for certain residents of that school district in each taxable year in which a sales and use tax for educational purposes is imposed and collected in such school district for any portion of that year pursuant to Article VIII, Section VI, Paragraph IV of the Constitution.

Huh? I swear I stood there for five minutes trying desperately to decipher what this meant and then gave up and just voted yes. So did I vote for increased taxes or not? And are the taxes for schools or what? Why do they do this? I'm a reasonably intelligent person and I have no idea what I just voted for. Why should I need a law degree to understand a referendum? Even Hubby who's a financial planner and knows tax stuff wasn't quite clear on what this was. Come on!

But the real controversial issue of the election was whether our little unincorporated part of Dekalb County, Dunwoody, would become a city. While we understood this issue, this one stumped Hubby and I too. It's so hard to know whether cityhood would be the right thing, whether we'd get better service with our own city government or whether we'd end up paying more in the end. The ultimate outcome will really depend on how competent the future city officials turn out to be. But most Dunwoodians seemed to be for it and the "Dunwoody, Yes!" people were so enthusiastic and had such cheery shirts and signs.



I voted yes to that too. What can I say? MOO.

Yey, Me Part II

Experience is Overrated

One of the most surprising things about having cancer is that you often have to choose your course of treatment. Of course, like any other medical issue, you expect that once you're diagnosed, your doctor will sit you down, tell you exactly how to deal with the problem, scribble a prescription and send you on your way. But treating cancer is alot more like plotting military strategy. Depending on the nature of the enemy, the terrain and weather conditions, there are several battle plans that offer promise in overtaking the enemy.

I was faced with planning my own offensive at the very beginning of my adult life. I had just graduated college and was in the midst of searching for my very first "real" job. Once I was diagnosed with stage IV Hodgkins disease, though, it became clear that starting my life would hinge on saving it first.

Because the disease had spread to several body parts, we had to take a carpet bomb approach and I had to choose between three different chemo cocktails. One cocktail had been the proven treatment of choice for decades. It gave me the greatest guarantee of a cure, but it was also the most toxic and I would face almost certain fertility problems later on. The second cocktail had only been around for a decade or so, but it had shown some very real promise in offering a cure with few serious side-effects. The third option was a combination of the two. Bottom line, I had to choose between a guaranteed cure or a likely cure with the probability of being able to bear children.

It was an excruciating choice. Having a family was still years away for me, but I'd always envisioned being a mother, raising my own biological children. But having children wouldn't even be an option if I wasn't alive in the first place. My family and I ultimately put the decision in the hands of someone infinitely more qualified. Thankfully, my doctor was not only a brilliant physician, but a warm and wonderful human being. My parents asked, "If she was your daughter, what would you do?" He didn't hesitate, "If she was my daughter, I would want her to have the best chance for a full and normal life. If you want to have children, I'd choose [the newer, less toxic combination]."

As I look into my daughters' faces, I often think of this fateful decision. Had I not taken a chance on the newer, less-proven option, I may have found other ways to become a mother, but I would have never known these two beautiful girls that my husband and I created. My life is everything I imagined it to be and more.

I'm also reminded of this decision as we Democrats try to choose between two highly qualified candidates to heal our country. Once again, I'm taking a chance on a newer, less proven choice. But I know that it's one that will not only get the job done, but will offer the best chance for the positive and hopeful future that we all envision for our country.

Experience is Overrated

I DID IT!!!!

So today while I was out picking up dog food, groceries and medicine for DD#2's ear infection, I swung by a local polling place and voted.

FOR THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

WOOOOO HOOO!!!!

Advanced voting is totally the way to go. No parking in Timbuktu, no lines, no standing on your feet for hours, and only one question -- who do you want to be President? That's what I call efficiency. Yes, I know I'm getting a bit overexcited about a primary, but voting before everyone else seems so...so...sneaky and kinda rebellious.

Sure, I'll miss the cache of being able to say that I voted on Super Tuesday. But Tuesdays are not so super for me.

I DID IT!!!!

Who Will You Hire?

In recognition of the Iowa caucuses today, BlogHer political contributing editor Morra Aarons asks about the politics of change and what it means to you. Oh, I don't know -- maybe it would mean a world where Americans traveling abroad wouldn't feel compelled to pretend they're Canadian? Or maybe it would mean a health care system that doesn't require a masters degree to figure out or afford.

OR, maybe it would finally mean a country that makes it possible to successfully raise a family and hold down a job without losing your sanity.

I always approach an election as if I'm hiring someone for a job. Experience, ideas and chemistry with colleagues are all critical considerations. I've hired people with great experience, but if they can't offer solid thinking, or don't play well with others, it can mean disaster. I've also hired wonderful people who were well-liked, but unless they can come up with realistic ideas and command enough respect for others to buy into those ideas, they don't last long either.

If I was hiring for this job, here's how the Democratic contenders would break down:

• Hillary Clinton: Great resume, top-notch experience. Clearly knows her stuff. But Hillary strikes me as the kind of exec whose smart, strong ideas would command respect, but her take no prisoners attitude would scare everyone sh**less. Lots of people effectively lead this way, but can it fly in DC these days, especially given the anti-Clinton sentiment that likely still lingers? And given the part of the world with which we have to mend relations, as much as I hate to say it, I wonder if a woman is right for the job right now. I know this is heresy to my kind -- I may be a woman, but I'm also a realist.
  
  
• John Edwards: Experienced. Passionate. Thoughtful. A nice guy, Edwards reminds me of a top exec at my organization who makes a point of saying hello to everyone he sees and ends every conversation by thanking you for your very hard work. Edwards has ambitious ideas, but are they too ambitious and would he command enough respect in DC to push them through? Speaking of respect, how would yet another white guy with a Southern accent play with the Middle East?
  
  
• Barack Obama: Not as much direct experience as the other candidates, but his resume contains an interesting mix. As a dark horse contender and a non-insider, Obama would initially enjoy a certain mystique in DC. A strong communicator, he could eventually win over even the toughest skeptics with his smart, pragmatic approach, calm demeanor and his rejection of negative political tactics. Could his darker skin and Muslim-sounding name intrigue our Middle Eastern enemies enough to open doors to real conversation?
  

While no candidate has the perfect combination of experience, ideas and chemistry, if I was hiring for this position, I'd extend an offer to Obama. His ethnicity holds a symbolic and unspoken promise of uniting our country and the world, but his background and natural inclination to find common ground can make change a reality. What we need most is a pragmatic approach and the promise of a new day -- a strong sign to both our foreign friends and our own Congress that America is ready for real change.

Who will you hire?

Who Will You Hire?