Probably as a result of playing tympani with my grammar school orchestra, I have developed a sort of “internal clock.” You do a lot of counting when you play most percussion instruments. So normally, without needing to resort to a watch or other timepiece I can generally tell what time it is within a few minutes.
I normally set the television in my bedroom to turn on at 4:30 a.m. It’s one of the few advanced features on this eight year old set that I know how to use. Well, that and the remote (at least some of its features). But when I was awakened, it wasn’t because of the television. That was still dark. It was because I had three hundred pounds of dogs in bed with me, all jostling to find a comfortable position somewhat oblivious to the fact that I needed to take up some space as well.
If you have an oversized spouse with whom you share a bed, let me assure you that four dogs of the same total weight as him or her require a lot more room than one human. So as I arranged them on the bed so that all five of us had room I looked forward to catching a little more rest. My internal clock told me it was only a little past three.
At 4:30 the television sprang into action. Typically, that wakes me to the point where I will prop up my pillows and see what CNBC has to say is going on in the world. But I think because the dogs awakened me early I was reluctant to let the Sandman go that morning. I lay back down and vaguely remember listening to the conversation between the three anchors. This went on for some time and as two of my canine companions had made for the cooler bathroom floor, I luxuriated in my new found room. I dozed back off.
As I was lying there in that twilight between wakefulness and sleep, a new person had apparently been introduced to the television set. I didn’t know who he was – and I didn’t recognize his voice. (That’s another benefit of musical training. If I hear a person speak once I know who he is. I may not always remember his name – but that’s another story).
I started to come to, partly because Kali, the Golden Retriever daughter and youngest of the group, had decided that she wanted to awaken me with a kiss, or more correctly a lick, or in all honesty a shower-full of licks. It’s hard to sleep when a wonderful companion animal is doing that.
So I propped myself up realizing that it was a little after 5 o’clock and I should be starting my day. I try to get the puppies to the dog park just after six as it is still relatively cool. But I was delayed by the guest who was on the show. It was Senator Marco Rubio, the junior senator from Florida. Of course I knew his name and some of his background, but I had never heard him speak.
Now if you’ve read any number of my posts, you know that I lay most of the problems in the United States squarely at the feet of those in Congress. And the primary reason is that our politicians do not offer common sense solutions to the important issues facing us but are more concerned about their political futures than our future as a country and people. At least, so I believe.
Of course, we voters also bear a share of the responsibility as we keep returning the same under-performers to office.
I cannot tell you how refreshing it was to hear Sen. Rubio. The man spoke from his heart, elegantly and eloquently without the need for a teleprompter. He spoke with humility, discussing his family’s poor financial background and of the hopes his Cuban parents had for him and his siblings when they came to America.
He spoke from a background of values – those same values which the Founding Fathers incorporated into our Constitution. He spoke intelligently and he spoke honestly. He made sense. He is obviously one of the bright stars in government.
It gives me some measure of hope that there are at least a few people of his caliber who are involved in governing this land. I have no doubt that one day, Sen. Rubio will be called upon to accept the position of President.
For now, I hope that he gets elected as Vice-President this November. America desperately needs leaders of his stature.