A whole day off

I’m amazed to find that I have the whole of a Saturday afternoon off, off from cleaning something or shopping for stuff or pretending to know what I’m doing out in the garden.  I say I have it ‘off’, but I suspect that if I made a list, there would be plenty of chores to fill my Saturday afternoon off, but I’m not going to make the list.  Not today.

There’s the great thing about being a grown-up kids: you can do what you want.  When I was a youth, I dreamed of this day when nobody could tell me what to do.  I’ve sat by the river and drunk a can of A&W root beer (imported from the US, so at a dear price £1.20), and I’ve downloaded the new Alabama Shakes album so far. What other crazy things will I dream up then?  I might lie on the sofa and read a book, possibly with a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit.  The world is my oyster, and those dandelions growing all over the back garden lawn look pretty damn good to me.

View from the bench
View from the bench

The older I get, the less patience I have

Hillary Clinton announced her candidacy today, and what is the trailer on the PM news hour this evening but ‘We’ll debate if a Hillary Clinton presidency would be a victory for feminism’.  And my reaction to that is ‘Really? Why?  Why is that the first thing you think of when Hillary Clinton announces that she wants to run for President of the United States?’   Feminism?  Yeah, I’m down with that, I’m a feminist.  But you know, we’ve been having this conversation for such a long, long time: whenever a woman does anything in politics, her first and foremost characteristic is ‘being a woman’ and what that means for everybody else.

I’ve been around a while, and for heaven’s sake I remember when Shirley Chisholm talked about running for President in 1972. (And in the context of this post, I shouldn’t say this, but she is really rocking that dress in the Wikipedia photo.)  That was in 1972!  There have been a lot of women who have done a lot of amazing things in politics: Margaret Thatcher –boo! — and Bella Abzug — yay, hero of my youth! — to name but two, and also way back when in the dark days of the Seventies.  And since then, well, even in the true Blue constituency of Abingdon and West Oxford where I live, we have a woman Tory MP, and the other two main party candidates in the upcoming election are also women.  That makes me hope that maybe, just maybe, ‘issues’ like age, children, clothes, shrillness, marriage, cleavage, menopause — all the squares on the @everydaysexism bingo card — won’t come into it when the Oxford Mail and Abingdon Herald cover the race.  One can only hope.

It’s the  oh-so-tired feeling that a woman in the public eye is always defined primarily as a woman and not as just a plain old person that gets me down.  Women politicians are just like men in many respects — some of them are competent, some of them are total bumblers; some of them are striving meglomaniacs, some of them are selfless workers for the public good.  I just wish it was about ability, record and judgement not gender.