Somebody pinch me, please.
As we drove through fields and fields today, I kept thinking each new farmhouse could have been right out of Wizard of Oz.
And considering the past 36 hours, perhaps it is rather apropo. I, too, have been traveling with new friends, both tall and short. The miles and miles of highway have felt as never-ending as the Yellow Brick Road as we head to a mystical city where all our questions are to be answered.
Blizzards have blocked our way and weariness has threatened to keep us on the straight and narrow. There have been wrong turns and tests of courage, often unexpected.
We are still nearly two hours away, yet the Huffington Post put me on the front page, a screen shot moment. (If there was no screen shot, I wouldn’t have believed it myself. srsly.)
And I had my first (?) run in with someone who gets up in the morning just tonfind ways to undermine working families. The jury is still out on whether or not I was effective, but sometimes it is critical just to get a countervailing voice of sanity (not Hannity) on the airwaves.
I doubt I will be welcome back. I’d chalk it up to a bucket list item, but really… Who dreams of going toe to toe with him?
Tomorrow, the real attacks begin. The idea that idealism exists must be squashed like the bugs some CEOs see us as.
Bring it, Baby. I started out with nothing and I still have most of it. I’m not perfect…far from it. But that’s what makes this countr great- millions of imperfect souls figuring things out and working together.
I packed my favorite red shoes, the ones people always call my ruby red slippers. If things go well, perhaps I will find both my heart and courage along the way. If the scare crows keep surfacing, perhaps we can finally fnd them a brain.
If they do not, I will clique my ruby red slippers and tell myself, “There’s no place like home.”