Chuck and I helped the local arts community by writing a column for the newspaper about Amigo and the barbershop chorus in which he sings. He enjoys rehearsals, thrives on the music, and gets totally psyched up for the performances. We were happy to support them with our column.
The piece apparently got picked up in a Madison newspaper. How do we know? Well, Chuck got a card from the guy who represents our district in the State Senate. We’ll call him Senator Throwback. The card enclosed a copy of our column, and carried a message that said “Saw this in the paper and thought you might like a copy.”
Nice, right? Maybe thoughtful? Politically expedient, too, eh? Almost. It’s likely that one of Senator Throwback’s staff pointed out the article and took the time to find our address, and on and on. We know that. But anyway, how did something that insignificant make the blog?
We co-wrote the article. Both of our names and both of our pictures accompanied the piece. We wrote it together. Senator Throwback addressed the article to Chuck and only Chuck. In his eyes, evidently I don’t exist.
Make no mistake, folks: this omission counts. By leaving one author, the female author, off the note, Senator Throwback made it clear that I do not exist for him. That’s too bad for him, though, because he’s forgotten one very important point: my vote counts exactly the same as Chuck’s does. And Senator Throwback isn’t likely to get mine next election.