Dirt In The Ground

(I have not had time to finish part two of my previous blog. In the meantime, here's something else...)

I was a seventeen year old college freshman in 1992. I turned eighteen two months before the '92 election. At that time, I was, despite my protestations to the contrary, a typical college freshman. Yes, my parents embarrassed me. And yes, I was trying to be as unlike them as possible—except when it came to my political inclinations. For those, I trusted my father implicitly. My father was goofy as hell, but he was smart and paid attention to the world around him.

He was a fiscal conservative. He was one of the most liberal men I knew in his personal and spiritual ideologies, but when it came to money, he was a republican through and through.When good old Ross Perot came on the scene that year with his big money slant, my father (and by extension, my mother) was hooked. He was optimistic about the future, about the future of his money.I registered to vote as soon as I turned eighteen. I went down to the polls on Election Day and pulled those levers-- mostly at random, of course.

For the big ticket, I voted Perot.A funny thing happened later that night. As was usually the case, I had my dorm room door open. Music streamed through my hi-fi set-up (my Sony Discman running through the auxiliary input of an old Commodore 64 monitor that I was using as a television), and I was at my desk entrenched in a game of Mine Sweeper on my cobbled together computer, complete with amber screen monitor.

Then, I heard it. Shouting and whooping. I don't remember what this kid's name was, but I do remember that he was tall, had long dark hair, and was an asshole. The kind of guy that surely got a lot of action because he was semi-attractive and mean.

And there he was, stomping down the hall, yelling "Bush sucks! Clinton rules!"

Now, when I've recounted this story in the past, I've conflated my epiphanies. I usually tell people that in that moment, I realized that I had no business voting because it was little more than a football game to me—as it apparently was to those around me. I vowed never to vote again unless I was more prepared, more informed.

I came to those conclusions but not that night. That night I was simply struck by a simple revelation about the election: This is not a football game.

Later, I did begin to piece it all together. I didn't vote again until 2004. And even then, I will admit, I wasn't as informed as I should have been. I knew more than I did when I was eighteen, but only because I'd been listening to NPR (something my republican father loved and hated). I also knew that whatever I didn't know about John Kerry was balanced by what I did know about Bush.

All of this leads up to my current state of mind: Until now, I have never plastered any political stickers on my car. Until now, I'd never watched a political convention, nor listened to an entire speech given by any president, or presidential candidate.

My wife knew from the beginning that Obama was the right choice. For me, I wanted to play it safe. I wanted to make sure that I wasn't just voting like my wife. But I started to listen more attentively to Barack's words. My wife bought The Audacity of Hope and I read the first chapter (I keep meaning to read the rest of it) and thought, "Okay, this guy can write." I watched and listened. I paid more attention.

I watched Obama's acceptance speech. And you know what? You know why that whole Daily Show-Lion King bit is so funny?[1] Because it sums up how I felt, how I feel about Obama. Hope is a funny thing.

I remember being blown away by the openness of these lines, "These challenges are not all of government's making. But the failure to respond is a direct result of a broken politics in Washington and the failed policies of George W. Bush."[2]

It really was like Harry Potter saying "Voldermort." Obama named that which must not be named.

On that stage, Obama faced the darkness and confronted it.

And he didn't do it in a way that was mean-spirited, or sadly rote. What was so powerful about his speech was the fact that he faced the darkness and did not drag us down into fear as a result of it. In fact, I felt hopeful in that moment. That hope was reflected in his invocation of Dr. King: "'We cannot walk alone,' the preacher cried.' And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.' America, we cannot turn back..."

This is optimistic realism. We're in a bad place. This is not all our fault, but we all have to work to fix it. Real work, hard work. But it can be done.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I heard about Sarah Palin the next morning. Pure pandering, pure (evil) genius. Imagine my horror listening to her speech. There was no hope in her words, only fear.[3] Only silly jokes and snide looks.

What's so bad about organizing communities?

And don't get me started about Giuliani. Here's the quote that made my ears bleed: "Because change is not a destination, just as hope is not a strategy." What does that even mean?!

Okay, so here it is: I am not passionate about politics and the world. I always just assumed that everything would work out fine around me and I could just go about my life without paying attention. That's the real moral of my little story. I'm too selfish (self-centered) to care that much about the fate of this nation.

Or at least I was.

This time around I do care. I have paid attention. And like some of my friends and colleagues, I too am being torn apart. I've been obsessed these past few weeks (after the elation of Obama's victory over Clinton, after the elation I felt from his speech was stomped on with arrogant ignorance by Sarah Palin, who delivered a speech she didn't even write)—obsessed with the possibility that we could be facing the biggest mistake this country has ever made. I hope and pray (and I don't pray much because I'm not sure exactly in what direction to pray) that the strategery clearly in-play at the moment will backfire. To some extent, it already has.

And so there it is.

I'll leave you with two quotes for those of us torn between optimism and pessimism:

"Hell's boiling over and heaven is full, / We're chained to the world and we've all got to pull."

- Tom Waits (from "Dirt In The Ground" on Bone Machine)

"This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected."

- Barack Obama (from his "A More Perfect Union" speech)[4]

____

NOTES:

[1] The Daily Show put together a bio film of Obama that figured him as Simba from The Lion King. Watch it here: He Completes Us.
[2] For the full transcription of Obama's speech, go here: Barack Obama's Acceptance Speech.
[3] Palin's speech can be found here: Governor Palin at the RNC. To test my musings, simply count up the words in her speech that have negative connotations. How many times does she mention 'war,' 'fear,' etc?
[4] Full transcript of a brilliant speech: A More Perfect Union.

One more thing! Here is an excellent article about Barack Obama's economic ideology. Read it here: How Obama Reconciles Dueling Views on Economy.