It’s like a huge wave crashing over my head. My hair is plastered to my face and a gale force wind is whippin’ everything into a frenzy. There are plenty of strong feelings in the brew–or stew. Well, maybe not stew since that needs to set a while and there is no setting down.

At work, I have the TV on alot. By now I absolutely despise the 24-hour news cycle. Careening from evangelical drug and sex scandals to botched jokes to fires. The only thing missing is a terror attack, but at least we had the Hussein verdict. Peppered throughout this “NEWS”–NOT–is a rolling commentary by a parade of pundits. Former somebodies, current nobodies, pollsters and jokesters all weigh in. It is deafening.

And I was talking to my dear friend who is in the other party. I began to say something about Iraq and a concern I had. He interrupted to tell me what I was going to say and what “your people” are saying. But hey, what I was going to say had nothing to do with anyone’s opinion except mine. It wasn’t a Red State-ment or a Blue State-ment. It was MY statement.

I wanted to share my thinkings with him. I was seeking out his response to my thinkings. Like having a dialogue. Like thinking things through outloud with someone that I often disagree with, but who I often learn from. And in this hyper-pundited atmosphere, I was shut down.

I AM NOT RED. I AM NOT BLUE. I am not my hair.