Mac-Coleman

22 February 2013 –

Sequestration

As we approach the 1 March deadline for this immature farce we call sequestration, I feel like I did when I had to sleep with my younger brother growing up.  We shared a bedroom and a bed.  We fought over that double bed.  We drew lines in the middle of the bed.  We both pulled on the covers all night.  We had irreconcilable differences in our approaches to life in our upstairs universe.  I can’t remember when we got separate beds.  But, it was a great moment for the both of us. 

I remember one night when we were especially snotty to each other about something to do with our very survival as siblings.  I can’t remember what it was exactly that made us fight; but, it was important to a five and an eight-year-old.  We had staked out our positions and were going at it with a focus and ferocity only bratty children display.  Mom opened up the hallway door and yelled upstairs at us that if we weren’t quiet, she would come upstairs and “pound knobs on our heads.”  Well, the pragmatist in me, having had knobs pounded on my head before, immediately decided that continuing my righteous crusade for my entitlements in life wasn’t worth it for the moment.  I could have ended it there.    

But, “Selfish Boy” couldn’t help but smack my brother just one more time.  I’ll teach him who’s in charge, I snorted.  Well, my brother showed me how to really fight.  He wailed loudly and pitifully, as if I had torn his arm off or something.  I tried to hush him up, but to no avail.  He continued to scream.  Mom came up the stairs with all patience gone.  She flipped on the light and looked around for something to hit us with: “Where’s a belt?”, she snarled. 

My brother, in a move that I remember to this day, picked up a belt from the floor and handed it to Mom.  Mom spanked us both with equal fury, one after the other.  Then, after she threatened us with torture and death if we continued in our ways, she slammed the light off and left. 

“Hey, idiot!” I whispered to my brother in the dark, as I fought back tears.  “Why in the world did you give Mom that belt?  You got spanked too!”  His response told me that I was trying to out-fight a cold killer:  “I don’t care if I get spanked, as long as you get it too!” 

My brother got a smack from me and got spanked by Mom.  I only got spanked by Mom.  But, to this day, I wonder who really won that fight. 

If 1 March passes without budget resolution, everybody will get spanked, and spanked hard.  Millions may be laid off.  Contracts will languish.  Programs will wrench to a halt.  Public confidence in Congress and the administration will sink.  I wonder who among our elected leaders will weather this ridiculously conceived, self-imposed spanking with focus intact?  Will there be a winner?   No matter:  “Where’s a belt?”