Go vote. Stand in line and make friends. Ignore everyone’s bad breath. Vote vote vote.

Voter turnout is sexy.

As Hubby and I left The Mall of Hell on Long Island, walking through JC Penneys, I saw a mom grab her son (I think) probably about 4 or 5, and snap at him for misbehaving, and then hit him. And I mean hit. Like a punch to his side. I heard it echo through his body cavity. It was horrible. It makes me sick inside and I cry when I think about it. And there were, like, four or five adults with her, all condoning what she did. All I can think about is this little kid who was acting like a kid and now his (or her) ribs probably ache from that punch.

I’ve never wanted to kill someone with a clothes hangar so much in my life. And I don’t know what I could have done differently.

That morning I saw an advertisement for CASA that talked about the number of children pulled from homes in Essex County, New Jersey. That’s where I live - same county as the city of Newark. The statistics were horrible and sickening. One caseworker might have 100 files to keep track of for DYFS. Outrageous.

Now I’m wondering if I should have said something to someone, or reported her… to who? The police? “I saw a woman punch her toddler in the JC Penneys and maybe you can get her on security cameras but I couldn’t see her face or her child’s face because they were all bundled up in winter coats with hoods?” Fat lot of good that’ll do.

I’m angry and useless, and don’t know what to do. 

Volunteer: I’m calling to ask you to vote for Barack Obama on Tuesday and to vote the Democratic ticket in New Jersey.

Morag:: I already voted! I’m a permanent absentee, and I voted for Obama, and everyone on the ticket from the Democratic party.

Volunteer: That’s GREAT! Hey! She already voted! For Obama!

Background: *cheers*

Volunteer: Thank you!

Morag:: NO, thank you for volunteering! Good luck with your next call, and I mean that!

Order online and pick up later? I totally have a crush on a grocery store.

Racism is real, and it’s probably in your family somewhere, just like someone’s probably gay, too, somewhere in the family tree. Better we talk honestly about it, I think.

Hubby’s grandmother refuses to vote for Obama because he’s black. She flat out said so. She knows she shouldn’t say it, so she’s embarrassed when she does so, but she won’t own that prejudice enough to put it aside and vote for him. Let us all rejoice and give thanks that she’s not in Florida.

I know many people in Hubby’s family are embarrassed. I wish they weren’t. I don’t think having a grandparent who is 91 years old, born in 1917, who has a racial prejudice working against her better judgment (she’s not voting for McCain either) reflects on them. It’s not like they think the same way she does. I’m appalled, but I also know that one cannot reason the prejudice out of someone, because it wasn’t reasoned into them in the first place (I forgot who said that. Time out for Google ---- Sydney Smith, English essayist and clergyman. Yay) (I love essayists. What are bloggers but 21st century essayists?)

HOWEVER, thanks to Jason Alexander, I may have come up with the best possible last-ditch-effort offense against her prejudice: “In the Jewish religion, you’re a Jew if your mother’s a Jew. By that standard, Obama’s a white guy.”

I did a recipe mass email forward this week, and someone sent a recipe that I swear I used to eat when I was a little kid. I’m so excited. Now to Google to make sure I know Every! Single! Variation! in the recipe. Wheeee!

Meanwhile, I hunt for a babysitter. I will find one.

A good one.