When it comes to the end of the campaign Neil Diamond says it all

“You don’t bring me flowers

You don’t sing me love songs

You hardly talk to me anymore

When I come through the door at the end of the day”

Lyrics from Neil Diamond’s song You Don’t Bring Me Flowers

Yes, one week after the election many of us are feeling like the words from Neil Diamond’s classic song when it comes to politicians. For weeks prior to last Tuesday’s General Election we registered voters were “the center of the universe to all the love” the politicians were handing out.

A stop home for my lunch would find the sweet writings of Jack O’Malley lining my mailbox (sometimes two and three times in a single day — I can read Jack, one would have been enough) or Kathy Wiejackzka who would be whispering sweet messages into my ear over the phone. One of these days I promise to learn how to pronounce her name.

Or the little “Sorry I missed you” messages Jack would write and stick in my door when I was at work or doing something away from the home. Tell me Jack, I can take it, were those just rubber stamped messages?

Now both of them have been tossed to the side like yesterday’s dirty socks without so much as a Dear John letter. Yes, the harsh reality of politics has broken another heart. They didn’t care about me as a person — they just wanted me for my vote! Ahh… the harsh reality of it all.

Then there was those late evening calls from Bill Schuette who wanted to give me a message with all the tenderness of cousin Billy Bob from down South. All he wanted was a few moments of my time and the chance to   spend a few precious moments with him in the voting booth last Tuesday.

Sorry Billy Bob, that didn’t happen. I guess this will mean your email address of “Schuette on Duty” will soon be changing to “Schuette off Duty.” Parting is such “sweet sorrow” Bill — much more than you will ever know.

And then there was the great number of people from both political parties I never knew these past few weeks sending their special words of cheer daily which usually consisted of a brochure with the scowling candidate in black and white they didn’t want me to vote for and the cheerful photo in color of the one they did. Gee, I am going to miss you guys. I will think of you with great fondness every Monday morning when I take my garbage bag out to the curb and it is five pounds lighter.

Thanks to my mailbox, I also visited the entire United States this election. What many people don’t realize is lots of those those brochures were paid for by out of state funding sources. Wow, and here I thought they really cared about me.

I do have to give Rep. Jack Bergman and his opponent Matt Morgan credit as they didn’t fill my mailbox or call me on the phone hardly at all during the campaign. That was not a shock as seeing a 1st District U.S. House candidate or an elected official from this district is about as rare as seeing a bald eagle.

Wait, I saw four bald eagles last year so that isn’t a good comparison. The bald eagle is the symbol of our country and it was here more than our representative or candidate.

It will hard to believe that those non-stop commercials of Debbie Stabenow and John James will no longer be wrapping around all my favorite television shows. It was always interesting to watch James blast Stabenow for not supporting the veterans and then two seconds later watching Stabenow’s commercial with veterans on it saying she is the best thing that ever happened to them. And it went on and on and on and on like that for weeks until most of us thought our heads were going to explode.

Most of us will  be happier to see the Cologuard commercials for colon cancer screening and the annoying My Pillow guy lighting up the television sets in the upcoming weeks after that political ad invasion.

And the pollsters — oh man the pollsters.

It was like there was a button on my kitchen chair (or on my backside) because every time I sat down to eat dinner the phone would ring. Since last week it seems that someone must have pulled the plug on the power.

As old Neil Diamond would sing in that sweet mellow voice, “you hardly talk to me when I come home at the end of the day.”

Oh, how the pollsters wooed me with their phone calls that they said would be a few moments of my time, because my opinion was important them. It was all ruse I tell you, a big ruse and my phone sits collecting dust. However, on the good side I have put back on five pounds from being allowed to eat my dinner while it is still warm!

Now all I am left with to talk to on the phone is that guy who wants to fix my computer even though I don’t own one at home. Ahh… the lonely nights that lie ahead.

Yes, my broken heart will heal from all the people who said they cared and now ignore me (like I believed that for one second). But take heart Manistee in two to four years the fateful words “There Back!!!,” from the classic scary movie “Poltergeist” will ring out and they will be haunting us all over again.

So for now enjoy the silence and lighter garbage bags, and let’s hope it lasts well beyond when I…see you next Wednesday.

 

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Posted by Ken Grabowski

Ken is News Advocate’s education reporter. He coordinates coverage for all Manistee County schools and West Shore Community College. He can be reached by phone at (231) 398-3125 or by email at kgrabowski@pioneergroup.com.

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