George Bush, smear tests & other Tuesday stuff

George W. Bush walked past me on Princes Street today. I stopped and starred, mouth agape, head tilted to the side. He was in a cheap suit and wore a company ID card on a lanyard around his neck. His face was wrinkled and skinnier than it looked on TV. He had a crumpled McDonald's bag in his hand and was headed toward a trash bin to throw it away.

It wasn't George W. Bush after all. But the guy looked just like him.

I started walking again, and thought to myself: I bet he's used to that — people staring at him all the time. Kind of like how people at Gonzaga would catch my eye and wonder how they knew me. It was from the bagel shop, of course. But I could always tell they were struggling to place me.

George Bush? Or an insurance salesman from Edinburgh? You be the judge.
Photo via Wikimedia Commons

My near run-in with the former president also got me thinking about politics in general.

How can we live in a world with such high quality television, yet such a mediocre to terrible governing class? Why is it that an amazing new iPhone model is released every year, but politicians have been notoriously out of touch for as long as I can remember?

No matter where on the political spectrum you fall, most of us recognise how darn right silly the people who run our countries tend to be. And although, come election season, we like to root for our guy to win, the truth is that none of the candidates are that different or that good. This is particularly evident when one of them comes to power and our day-to-day lives change very little, if at all.

I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said before. So, let's move on.

I also got a 'smear test' today. Or, as I tend to pronounce it, schmear test. For some reason, certain words—like scheme, smarmy and smolder—bring out the Sean Connery in me.

It wasn't my first smear, and it won't be my last. All part of being a female in the world. Beyonce should write a song about it.

While she swabbed my innermost hoo-ha, the lady and I chatted about the pros and cons of being self-employed.

"Yes, it's a bit of a risk going freelance, but nothing beats being your own boss."

"Aye, that's true. So what kind of copywriting is it?"

"Oh, just for websites mainly. Sometimes for small businesses, and other times for digital agencies."

"Aye, ah, yes, OK."


OK, great! Despite scraping the bottom of the uterus barrel for topics, I've still managed to churn out yet another post. Job done.

See you back here tomorrow for Day 17 of this never-ending blogging adventure.

Your pal,
Margaret