Some human fast-talk machine called me this afternoon, pretty much out of nowhere, as I was watching a replay of one of last night’s meaningless pre-season football games. I’ll try to paraphrase as best I can:
“Hi, may I speak to Mr. Levine?”
“You are. Who’s this?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Levine. As you know, this year’s elections are –”
“HEY! Who’s this?”
“GoodafternoonMisterLevine. This is the Obama campaign, and as you know, this year’s elections are…” Oh, shit. Mute the TV. “…yak yak yak, yak yak yak, and we really need your help. Can we count on you for a small donation to show your support?”
“No. I’m on a fixed income. I rely on my Disability and Medicare. If Mr. Obama continues to support those programs, I will vote for him. I’m sure not going to vote for any of those right-wing nut-jobs with Jesus signs and tea bags on their heads. So, you’ve got my vote, but I can’t afford to make–” She cuts ME off.
“Well-Mr.-Levine-we-appreciate-your-support-we-really-do-but-what-we-really-need-is-the-money-to-counter-the-lies-the-Republicans-are-spreading-in-the–” I went a little Brooklyn on her:
“Well, Ms Obama Campaign, I just told you I’m on a fixed income and I can’t afford to make a donation. Social Security and Medicare. That’s what I really need. Support it, you got my vote. That’s what YOU really need. Why don’t you ask the goddamn corporations who can give you all kinds of money because they’re not paying taxes on it and the Supreme Court lets them?”
“No, it’s not like that,” she says. No, huh? I let her go on. “I understand where you’re coming from. Mr. Levine, we need donations from people just like you… yak yak yak … with a small two-hundred twelve dollars a year–” *click*
So, that was the end of my involvement with the Obama re-election campaign. A SMALL $212 per year donation. WTF? Whatever happened to five or ten bucks!?
Now, though, if they want as much as the space on my rear window for an Obama meatball logo, they can send a volunteer over here to lick the seagull shit from my rear window and stick it on themselves. Obviously their scriptwriters haven’t got the idea yet.
Next time, I’ll keep ’em on for a while and make them earn their hangup.