I'm wearing my plastic encased sardine today. Really it is a pin made from a dead sardine set in clear plastic resin. It is kinda pretty from a distance. When you get up close its silvery skin is clearly that, real sliver fish skin in all its glory.
I'm missing the House. I miss the packed chaos and camaraderie of the balcony, 20 of us like matches at shotgun desks, fifty below, things flying, Brent Crane's candy dish, the committee meetings where any member might go off and take up ten minutes with a childhood story or burst into song or start debating in rhyme. Those things are not likely to happen in the Senate, no skits, no food, no coffee or tea allowed, not even water on the floor. Most have offices so we do not work side by side on the floor as much.
With the exception of Bart Davis who is so formidable and cracks jokes no one notices all the time, we are austere, dead serious and so far sedate. These are serious times and I don't know how we will get through it without some ability to laugh at ourselves. Dean Cameron tries in Committee. He has a way of making compassionate humor. But the social strata is more marked in the Senate. I have not gotten to mix with the chairs or leadership now that I am part of the body. It may be that I've yet to find the jovial crowd in the rank and file or be invited to lunch with them. I do miss the occasional lunches with Republican colleagues in the House.
Being in search of the lighter side of the Senate as we plow through these horrible decisions day after day, I'm thinking I might need to make a bit more effort. So I'm wearing the sardine pin today and maybe, just maybe I'll grab a hard boiled duck egg and wander back to the House balcony to leave it in Brent Crane's candy bowl.
