The Editor's Back Fence

Nothing, nothing is more depressing this week than looking at the pile of (excuse me, grandma) crap that arrives in the mailbox every day as the election season comes to a close. Well, maybe it’s the boiler room phone calls for the candidates. 

Yesterday, for example: the “Official Pro-Choice Election Endorsements” from the National Women’s Political Caucus, a group of which I was a founding member way back when they used to be honest feminists. They’ve collected a group of women most of whom are of no particular distinction, and they obviously intend to leave the unwary reader with the totally false impression that the opponents of these women are not pro-choice. Lies, lies, bald-faced lies. 

And to complement these, a phone call from someone who sounded like he was a young man, with obvious boiler room noise in the background: “This is the National Woman’s Political Caucus. Will you be voting for Elizabeth Echols?” I asked him where he was located and what company he worked for, and he hung up.  

Then today another guy, slightly different voice but obviously on the same team, who wanted to tell me all of Ms. Echols’ great endorsements. The last one was the “Serena Club”. Say again? “Serena Club”. Where are you located, young man? “I can’t tell you.” Are you in California? “No.” Do you support this candidate? "I'm not allowed to say." 

Both of these yound men sounded like they were African-Americans, perhaps hired in an attempt to influence Tony Thurmond's potential supporters. It didn't work with me, but it might work with some voters. 

Well, the NWPC and the “Serena” Club should be on notice that from now on, though I’ve contributed both time and money to both organizations in the past, they can take me off their lists. (And that goes for the “Sierra” Club too.)