I'm making a batch of chocolate chip cookies — the batter tastes like success, so my mother can congratulate herself for instilling one more domestic talent in her son. The treats are for the picnic my local Republican organization is holding tomorrow evening. It's no accident that I've taken time to bake: presiding over a meeting last week, I heard a board member grin that "bachelors always bring boxed goods from the supermarket." She's right, of course; so it's up to me to buck the trend.
The picnic is showing its own signs of success, which is nothing short of a blessing. My GOP club suffers from the same lack of volunteers as every city — part of it from the greying demographic, residents who are nevertheless absent from the community; part of it from the tail end of the uninvolved Me Generation, just now understanding how they misunderstood selfishness for freedom. According to RSVPs, attendance will be the best for a special event in years. Guests should include our state senator and representative; proxies for a local judicial candidate and our own United States Senator, George Voinovich; and the Bane of Dennis Kucinich, the honorable Ed Herman. Before we enjoy some ballads sung by local talent, we'll all dine on hot dogs, chips, picnic sides — and, of course, chocolate chip cookies.
First batch is ready to come out of the oven. Excuse me.