Malu and I have dinner at Jerry's in SoHo. The TV is on there is spin and chatter about election results which aren't final yet. Though for a moment I imagine a Kerry landslide, a sudden coming to their senses of the American people, I sense this is not to be. It will be close again.
A Jamaican woman who cleans my place once a week announces that if she could vote she’d vote for Bush. Seeing the shocked look on my face she says, "You're surprised? I think he's a nice man... I know nothing about his politics or policies, but 'e seems like a nice man."
Jeez, she may as well vote for a cartoon character if it's all about conviviality, charm and niceness. The Bush crew are smiling as they stick the knife in.
But maybe she feels she’s cutting to the essence of the man — that her guts and instincts regarding a person are more reliable a measure than what politicians say or pretend to be. Politicians are professionally good at deceiving, and maybe her instincts are an attempt to cut through that. To see the real person behind the words. She senses that a look in the eyes and the facial expression reveals more of the person than policy and politics.
It certainly would be a time saver.
