I love the Wizard of Oz. As a kid, I think I probably watched that movie at least 100 times (a week). And I remember always thinking "Jeez, what a crab" about the guy who answers the door when Dorothy & Co. reach the doors to the Emerald City. "WHO RANG THAT BELL?" While, yes, he is supposed to find out the answer to that question, you'd think maybe the greeter to the sparkling green paradise would have a little more patience and class while performing his duties.
I realized something this weekend, though. That poor door greeter, it wasn't his fault. He was just sick to death of political supporters and politicians themselves ringing the doorbell. He was probably incredibly relieved to see a walking talking bag of straw and trembling feline instead of some suited-up, fake-smile wearing liar toting enough literature to have single-handedly taken out half of America's remaining trees.
Ah, campaign season...
I have never been terribly interested in politics. I vote. I spend some time getting to know which candidates are which. A lot of what I base my vote on is purely gut - do I like the candidate, think they'll try to do their best, etc. - because regardless of whether or not they agree with me on issues like big/small government and federal spending, whatever, if the person is of faulty character, they're not going to get the job done anyway. I've tried to ignore the mountains of junk mail I've received from both political parties in the recent months, but after I cleaned up our piles of mail this weekend and filled our indoor recycle bin TWO TIMES with a majority of political fliers, I'd had enough. That is why when we received multiple calls to our cell phones and personal visits to our house (during nap time, no less), I found myself shouting, "WHO RANG THAT BELL?!"
You know what? As soon as one of them shows up wearing ruby slippers, I'll be happy to talk them. Until then, "Nobody sees the wizard!"