THE ASCENDANCY OF ABNORMAL
Daughter: Mom, since I am going to miss Homecoming because I have to work, can I spend the night at a friend’s house?
ReaganGirl: Why don’t you have your friend come over here? I don’t mind.
Daughter: This house is… (searches for a word)…not normal.
ReaganGirl: What do you mean sweetie? How is our house not normal?
Daughter: You.., well, you’re…awkward.
ReaganGirl: Oh, (thoughtful pause)well, can you give me an example of how I’m awkward?
Daughter: Mom, one of the times I had friends over you came down into the basement, took an empty tampon box, cut it in half and made a casket for your dead spider. Then you put on a black shawl and held a funeral. That was awkward!
One recent morning, upon waking, I had a thought waft through my mind, “You will not live a normal life. Your goals and desires will be different now and the hopes of the past are no longer.” The feeling that accompanied the thought was simply one of acceptance. I am now okay with not being normal.
I, ReaganGirl, am a wee bit uncomfortable talking about myself, but in order to define what I mean by “normal” I will have to expose myself a little. Here goes: My name is Marjorie, and I am an Abnormal Person. Being abnormal has little or nothing to do with the fact that I have an affinity for tarantulas (I have owned four of them as pets over the years). And though I sometimes feel a little awkward at social or church events, where 99% of the adults are married, my strangeness is not due to my single status. Being a Special educator does not make me abnormal. Nor does being a Tea Party activist, Conservative blogger, gun owner, or Mormon woman. What makes me unusual is the fact that I am willing to risk all of the above for the idea of liberty. I am willing to give up my American dream so my kids can have a shot at theirs. That makes me abnormal. But that makes me a woman for our times, because we do not live in normal times.
I attended a Conservative activist training last June, and Joel Mowbry, a FoxNews political contributor, spoke. “You are not normal people.” He declared. “Normal people don’t give up an entire Saturday in June to sit in a windowless room and learn how to be a political activist. Normal people go to the beach, watch sports, spend time with their friends. But not you! No, you’re here, eating cold pizza, and listening to me, so you can become an activist. You are not normal!”
I had never thought of it that way before. In my heart of hearts, I believed that everyone was politically passionate. I thought everyone had adopted an ideology, right, left, or middlin’. I thought that it was the mainstream American way to be. It all makes sense now. The glazed-over eyes, the “excuse me, my dog is on fire,” exit lines, the “oh, I don’t know anything about that…now, about them Denver Broncos,” change-the-subject retorts. So, no, not everyone wants to talk about the constitutional problems with ObamaCare and the commerce clause. And, not everyone understands why it is even more important to stock up on ammunition for your firearms than it is to acquire more guns. I may be the only person on my block who squeals with delight when the latest David Barton tome arrives on my step from Amazon.com.
The questions that keep zinging between my temples are these; What exactly is normal? And, how many of you reading this are still living the normal lives you did some 20 months ago, in the pre-Obama, pre-radical-take-over days? And who among you underwent a visceral recalibration 9 years ago, with 9-10-01 being the last day of your life that you could call yourself a normal American? Who among you has taken up bizarre behaviors such as attending rallies, raising your hands, asking questions and challenging the status quo? What about the hoarding of books such as those on American History, the worldwide encroachment of radical Islam, the founding documents, and the Founders themselves? Weird, really weird. Who among you is educating yourself outside the purview of the public school system? Perhaps you are one of those abnormal, dangerous readers. Has any of you taken to the streets in mobs; retired folk, business owners, families, church-goers and other subversive elements, to protest corruption and soft tyranny, to reaffirm what it means to be an American? How many of you act out on the phone or at the computer, cranking out emails and phone calls and reminding your representatives on Capitol Hill that they work for you? Has anyone out there actually (sorry about this extreme example) campaigned for a politician? Have you all gone mad? THIS IS NOT NORMAL!
But if normal means complacency in the face of national decay and destruction, I want no part of normal. If normal means to give away the farm to special interests and the radicals in power, you can keep your normal. If normal means to abandon all that is good; traditional families, marriage, self-reliance, faith, creativity, and healthy, entrepreneurial risk-taking, then normal is no longer desirable. If the normal thing is to concede our freedom of religion to the god/state secular forces of evil ideologies, then normal must be opposed. If it is normal to blindly trust your political leaders, comply passively with their socialist agenda, and watch the “last, best hope of the world” putter to an ignominious end, then normal will not be tolerated.
I hope that this dialogue will take place on some near-future day.
Child: Mom, you’re not…normal. But I’m really glad, because it took an unusual person to give me a future. Those guys who wanted to “transform America” nearly ruined my future.
ReaganGirl: Sweetheart, it is all worth it. America will never again be normal, the way it once was. But I’m glad I stuck my neck out for you and your siblings. I will do it again, as often as necessary.
Child: Thanks, mom. Can I have some friends over? They think your book collection is really interesting.
ReaganGirl: Of course. Then we can bake some banana bread, the way we used to.