Politics and Mortal Sin

Every year about this time a dear man to whom I am closely related by marriage (and to whom procrastination, needless to say, is not a pressing personal problem) composes his annual list of seventy-five or eighty New Year’s resolutions which, if I only stick to them this time. . . . The truth is that if I only stick to them this time, I assure you, I will be dead by May. (“There was nothing I could do,” Dr. Nichols will tell my grieving family. “She simply lacked the will to live.”)

Ben doesn’t believe I would be dead by May. Well . . . good heavens, I trust he doesn’t! No, of course he doesn’t: What he thinks is that I’ll be perfect by May if I would, just for once, cut out all those silly political meetings at night so that I would joyously jump out of bed at 6:45 every morning and, all aglow from my isometric exercises and my hot and cold shower and my decent-breakfast-for-a-change, drive the children to school instead of spending a lot of money I don’t have on the school bus. Also cut out all those silly political phone calls that keep me glued to a chair twelve hours a day instead of keeping the children’s rooms and drawers and shelves and closets and desks and toy chests tidy so as to teach them neatness by example if I can’t do it any other way and stop spending a lot of money I don’t have buying a child new undershirts because the storage room is in such a mess I can’t find the undershirts the next child up outgrew last spring. Also cut out subscribing to all those silly political publications that do nothing but make a shambles out of my desk, and stop donating a lot of money I don’t have to any two-bit political outfit that asks me to; and then when I go hog wild over birthdays and Christmas at least I’d have a little cash to do it with. Also, cut out all those silly political talks I’m everlastingly having with some child who should have been in bed hours ago, instead of supervising his practicing and checking his homework for that extensive education I am spending a lot of money I don’t have for. And solemnly resolve to cut out all that political stuff once and for all and pay some attention to my family for a change.

About the Author

Aloïse Buckley Heath

Aloïse Buckley Heath (1918–1967) was the sister of National Review’s founder, William F. Buckley Jr.

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Every year about this time a dear man to whom I am closely related by marriage (and to whom procrastination, needless to say, is not a pressing personal problem) composes his annual list of seventy-five or eighty New Year’s resolutions which, if I only stick to them this time. . . . The truth is that if I only stick to them this time, I assure you, I will be dead by May. (“There was nothing I could do,” Dr. Nichols will tell my grieving family. “She simply lacked the will to live.”)

Ben doesn’t believe I would be dead by May. Well . . . good heavens, I trust he doesn’t! No, of course he doesn’t: What he thinks is that I’ll be perfect by May if I would, just for once, cut out all those silly political meetings at night so that I would joyously jump out of bed at 6:45 every morning and, all aglow from my isometric exercises and my hot and cold shower and my decent-breakfast-for-a-change, drive the children to school instead of spending a lot of money I don’t have on the school bus. Also cut out all those silly political phone calls that keep me glued to a chair twelve hours a day instead of keeping the children’s rooms and drawers and shelves and closets and desks and toy chests tidy so as to teach them neatness by example if I can’t do it any other way and stop spending a lot of money I don’t have buying a child new undershirts because the storage room is in such a mess I can’t find the undershirts the next child up outgrew last spring. Also cut out subscribing to all those silly political publications that do nothing but make a shambles out of my desk, and stop donating a lot of money I don’t have to any two-bit political outfit that asks me to; and then when I go hog wild over birthdays and Christmas at least I’d have a little cash to do it with. Also, cut out all those silly political talks I’m everlastingly having with some child who should have been in bed hours ago, instead of supervising his practicing and checking his homework for that extensive education I am spending a lot of money I don’t have for. And solemnly resolve to cut out all that political stuff once and for all and pay some attention to my family for a change.