I’m sorry Governor LePage – I just can’t resist

When I heard about Governor LePage having bariatric surgery, I’ll be honest — my first thought was pretty snarky, and I almost wrote a post.

I hestitated, though, out of respect for the people I know for whom bariatric surgery has literally been a lifesaver. I wouldn’t have wanted them to interpret my snark as reflecting on their choice to improve their health.

I can relate to lifelong battles on the line where relationships with food impact health. I’ve had my own. For me it’s an under-eating issue, but either way, diet-related health issues are significant challenges for some of us.

In that regard and on a very human level, I wish Governor LePage and his wife well with this phase of their health journey, even as I disagree with much of what the governor says and does.

After deciding to bite my tongue, I read a thoughtful piece by BDN reporter Chris Cousins. Cousins analyzed the decision-making that goes into covering an elected official who is so off-the-cuff and controversial in his commentary. Something in Cousins’ post helped strengthen my resolve about biting my tongue.

Then, LePage gave civil rights hero Rep. John Lewis a now infamous race and politics history lesson that culminated with LePage suggesting blacks owe Republican leadership a thank you.

I thought — well, whenever LePage starts blathering about race, I do tend to think of a two word imperative statement that ends with you. It just doesn’t start with thank. But still I bit my tongue on the bariatric snark.

Now comes the news that LePage is refusing to back down from his latest racial commentary, and all I can think is:

If only his PCP had a procedure that would help LePage control what comes out of his mouth as well as bariatric surgery seems to be helping him control what goes in.


Endnote to Veterans and Legal Affairs Committee Chairs Sen. Garrett Mason and Rep. Louis Luchini, their fellow committee members, and committee staff:  When someone at MMCM asked me to sit in on the work session for the recreational marijuana moratorium Thursday afternoon, I’ll admit my yes was less than enthusiastic.  I anticipated being — I don’t want to say bored, but let’s say, less than stimulated.

I figured I’d get further acquainted with the cracks in gilding on the frame on a portrait hanging on the wall to the right of where I was sitting two days before, to try to stay focused when the session drifted.

But there was no drift. No bull, no over-analyzing, no digressing. Instead I was amazed by the thoughtful, but well-paced collaborative productivity. I was so engaged, I forgot to check the plaque to see whose portrait had the cracked frame.

I’m thinking you all should send a video of that session to Congress, maybe give them some ideas.

Patricia Callahan

About Patricia Callahan

Trish is a writer who lives in Augusta. She has worked professionally in education and social services.