“So you voted, Jennifer?”

“Yes, by absentee ballot.”

“Very good, I approve.  Who did you vote for, may I ask?”

I answered, “Reagan.”

Non judgmentally, he pressed:  ”Interesting.  OK, why?”

I struggled to articulate why Reagan, not Carter.  My answers were half-baked.  I was 23 years old, and half-baked myself.  I voted the way my parents voted.

In January 1981, it was an easy matter to attend Reagan’s inaugeration.  My college friend Ellen brought alone a Spanish wineskin, and we sipped horrible but warming plonk from its mouthpiece throughout the morning, perched on freezing cold aluminum bleachers on Pennsylvania Avenue. 

My overwhelming memories of that historic day? 

A bitterly cold behind, a bursting bladder, and a brief glimpse of the Gipper and Nancy waving from a limo. 

Today, in stark contrast, I’ll join a group of women friends in a cozy apartment in suburban Philadelphia to bask in the warm glow of a TV screen.  We will eat, we will drink, we will above all be merry. 

A toast to the Obama years!

On Tuesday night my heart swelled with pride and I cried as I watched Barack Obama’s victory speech in Grant Park. Earlier that day, I had canvassed voters, walking from house to house in the rain to make sure that supporters had gotten to the polls before they closed. The Obama volunteers didn’t want people to go out on their own so I was paired with a total stranger, I got in his car, and off we went. We did not know each other but became fast friends and were giddy to be together working for a common cause. And although I did not volunteer as much as others did, I felt a part of something important and bigger than myself.

When it became apparent that Obama had won, many commentators immediately focused on the historical significance of the first black U.S. President. And it is very significant; I am overwhelmed with pride for my country that elected him. Yet as a white voter, I do hope that Obama’s race does not remain the most compelling story. Because it has been very clear to me all along that Barack Obama was not just the African-Americans’candidate. He was also MY candidate…and Jennifer’s…so many other men and women of ALL races, religions, and beliefs. The diversity of the crowds celebrating on television spoke volumes. Throughout this Presidential race, I never thought of Obama as the “black candidate” – to me he was simply the “best candidate”. And his victory will be all of ours to share as one nation.

Ironically, there was another “black victory” this week. Last night, in front of family and friends, after six years of training, Noah received his black belt in karate. He had to break a board, which I know from experience really stings, and that’s if you’re successful. And as much as I always want to be there for my kid, there was absolutely no way that I could help him out on any of this. Like on election night, I just had to sit there and watch it unfold, hoping for the very best.

Noah brought it. This black victory was his — and his alone.

I’ve been in a 50th state state of mind this week. On Monday, Malcolm had to bring in an authentic Hawaiian dessert to share with his 6th grade Visa (world cultures) class, currently reading about Pearl Harbor. I’ll spare you details of the 3 grocery trips and endless stirring over low heat to make a coconut milk pudding. I wonder if any of the kids detected my secret thickening agent, Jello Instant vanilla mix? Hey, when the stuff hadn’t gelled by Monday morning, desperate measures were required. Plus, it tasted great!

The Hawaii theme continued last night, when it was all about Shane Victorino, the Flyin’ Hawaiian, who was key in getting the Phillies to the World Series (Wave those rally towels!)…and Barack Obama, who will be key in getting America back into World Class shape (Wave that voter registration card!).

Flipping channels between The Game and The Debate, I did have some questions. Why can’t Manny stop fidgeting? And isn’t there a more flattering hairstyle for him? Why can’t McCain stop blinking? And doesn’t he know that’s a sign of lying? Maybe he’s never played poker. Why couldn’t Obama have smiled less when McCain was talking? And doesn’t he know that looks smug? Why wasn’t McCain wearing a flag pin? And is anyone going to make a huge deal out of that little omission?

Best malapropism of the evening: McCain saying Palin was a “Freth of bresh air.”

I’ll sign off with this amazingly inspired treatment of McCain & Palin as a famous cartoon couple. As caricatures go, it’s absolute perfection. Kudos to the Gallery of the Absurd – but careful, you could lost here.

http://galleryoftheabsurd.typepad.com/14/2008/09/john-mccain-sar.html

Yet she is not a BAD person; and in any other situation, we may all really like Sarah. But I do not know a single intelligent female peer who has not spewed nasty stuff about this woman. People are talking about moving out of the country if the McCain / Palin ticket is victorious – and (hint, hint) it’s not because they don’t like John McCain.

The fact that working women, who have every reason to embrace one of their own, have turned against Palin suggests that she is WAY out of touch with what American women want and need.

I think Palin makes women look bad. We are embarrassed for her lack of intelligence and thoughtfulness on important policies, not unlike we have been embarrassed for George W. We don’t want the advancement of women to be associated with this one person. But I think the anger largely comes not from embarrassment for her but from fear of her. One of the CNN commentators framed it best when posing the following scenario: There is another terrorist attack on American soil and the President is in Air Force One flying around the country. The Vice President is in the underground situation room, making decisions about our security. Who do we want in that VP seat? Maybe someone who can pronounce the word “nuclear”?

I do think that this passionate dislike for Sarah Palin is driven further by the scary fact that some people actually think she’s great. Granted, I have not met any of these people. Polls suggest they exist but I don’t know a single one. But their collective percentages fascinate me. If everyone hated her from the get go and she didnt have a shot at getting elected, we may have a few kind words for her. But there is still a very good chance that she may win (along with that McCain guy). And like a mamma bear whose cubs are in danger, women get rather ferocious when their children’s future safety and security are at stake. In many people’s minds, Sarah Palin, if elected, is a threat to national security.

There were times last night that I was hoping she would prove me wrong. I found myself rooting for her. I desperately wanted her to impress me with something more than rhetoric so that I could stop worrying. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Do I think that any of my friends who have independently threatened to expatriate if Palin becomes VP will actually do so? Nope. But the fact that so many people have brought it up is astounding to me. Mostly because I thought it was my idea alone.

It was a step back in time. We parked in a remote lot about a quarter mile from the rally. Under perfect skies with a light breeze, a hay ride picked us up and transported us to the site. There were picnic tables and hay bales set up in front of a podium for people to park themselves upon. Everyone was in a good mood and the upbeat music over the loudspeaker kept us all cheerful. We saw neighbors, friends and teachers from our community, all giving one another that look that says, “I’m glad were on the same team.” Lots of different colored faces. And right before Joe took the stage, (I kid you not) a rainbow appeared in the sky. I have lived in these suburbs my entire life and I have never felt quite so wholesome.

Joe, of course, was great, talking about the middle class, sticking to the issues, and going out of his way to praise McCain’s character. There was no mud slinging. He even chose to use the word “malarkey” as opposed to any of the words I would have used when referring to the Republican ads of late. In the spirit of full disclosure, I have a little crush on Senator Biden, something I admit freely to my husband who somehow isn’t threatened by this information in the least. After the rally we went out for hamburgers and milkshakes.

This was the second presidential campaign event we went to as a family this year. Last Spring, we took the boys, along with Jennifer and Malcolm, to hear Michelle Obama at Haverford College.

At both events they probably absorbed about two percent of what was said. But the return on the investment was priceless. They got to see democracy at work; they understand that their parents care about who is elected; and they got milkshakes. Come November 4, they will come into the voting booth with us and help us pull down our levers, perhaps seeing us as more than just Mom and Dad. They will see us as citizens. And this year, I would argue, that role is just as important.

Hall monitors.

No matter how much progress has been made elsewhere in our political system, hall monitors will continue to hand picked from the exact same demographic. It’s a good ol’ kids network, comprised entirely of goody two shoes fifth graders with near perfect attendance records. Sure these kids love their school, but are they really, truly ready to narc on their friends? They’ve done their homework but how much experience do they really have when it comes to telling the difference between walking and running? Oh they stand there and look the part, but when asked what they actually do, they can’t really tell you, can they?

You can put cherry chapstick on the piglet but it’s still a piglet.

May history absolve you, my son.

On this day, take a moment to think about what it means to be an American. I, for one, am so very proud.