Another Day in the Country
Pay attention
Contributing writer
Tuesday morning I sprayed hair spray all over my face to wash it. It gave new meaning to wrinkle control. My poor face was immediately stiff — this wasn’t after all just any old hair spray, it was Freeze and Shine. Momentarily frozen, but definitely not shining, I was wheezing on noxious fumes, shot straight into my face. Not what I expected, that’s for sure. My eyelashes were stuck together; I couldn’t even open one eye. Suddenly I was paying attention.
Early morning rituals, cruising on autopilot, I’d approached the bathroom counter thinking of something else other than washing my face. There’s a soothing blue green bottle of something called Sea Plasma by the sink. It’s wonderfully fragrant moisturizing water that I just love waking up to. I usually pick up the bottle, spray some toward my face, wipe the excess off with a cloth, and smile at the new day. This morning was different.
Instead of looking at the containers, picking blue instead of brown, reading labels, I just grabbed the nearest bottle. It wasn’t until I depressed the plunger several times that I figured out what I’d done. I wasn’t paying attention. I was coughing and sputtering.
A scripture text from my childhood sprang to mind, “By their fruits you shall know them.”
Prying open one eye, I looked in the mirror and laughed. Freeze and shine, eh? Surely, there’s a lesson in there somewhere.
In the early morning hours, it is my habit to review the day, contemplate what I’m about to do, give thanks for a body that works, celebrate the fact that spring is coming, and then get out of bed.
On this particular morning, I’d been thinking about a letter that I was about to write to the City of Ramona. Most people in town know that I’m not running for mayor again; this would be the last official hurrah. What did I want to say?
Ironically, I was going to say something about paying attention.
“It’s about time to vote for your city officials,” I was going to say. “So, pay attention. Don’t let it sneak up on you and forget to vote. Pay attention to whom you choose to represent you. Do they set a good example? Are they honest? Can you trust them? Do they actually do what they say?”
Stuff like that. I reminded myself to be properly generic in my comments — middle of the road — because there are nine people running for five seats on the city council in a town of, say, 125 people. Counting the mayor, that’s about one-eighth of our adult population running for office.
We’d wish that anyone running for public office was committed to keeping our small towns alive and well. We’d want them to be cooperating types not trouble makers, peacemakers not quarreling sorts. We’d want our candidates to be the movers and shakers in our small communities who already are helping out, volunteering, making good things happen. As in all elections, some are and some aren’t. You’ve gotta pay attention!
When I first started serving my little town, first as a council member and then as mayor, I was blessedly naïve. We just wanted to help out. I wanted to do my best. I wanted to see Ramona grow or at least stay alive — it was after all, my original hometown.
And, I admit it; I wanted Ramona to be an idyllic place where people could live in peace and harmony. I wanted our city meetings to be creative, deal with problems that came up in a respectful fashion, plan for the future with hopefulness — isn’t that what we all want?
“Whoa!” I said to the person in the mirror looking back with frozen eyelashes. “You’ve got to pay attention. This is not the town newsletter.”
But it is the news and there is an election coming up and the outcome, in any of our towns, affects our future, so “Pay attention! Do your homework. Vote, check things out, don’t believe everything you hear — or even everything you read. Ask questions.”
This is no time for autopilot anywhere in the country, let alone small town America. In fact, it’s way past time for people to take a stand for what is good and decent. So, you don’t have much? You can still share a little. Even if you’re physically limited, we can give back to a community. So you’re retired, there’s a little time to help someone else. We can’t just coast along on food stamps, folks, letting someone else do the work. We’ve got to plant a garden — whether it’s vegetables in the back yard or ideas in your city meetings — and celebrate another day in the country.