friends, Uncategorized

The Day After

We both grew up in families that didn’t wear their politics on their sleeves. We have also been blessed with friends across the political spectrum. We especially value those friendships with people who don’t vote the same way we do, but who love us anyway. (One friend is fond of the saying, “When all think alike, not much thinking going on.”) For those reasons and others, we made a conscious decision on this blog not to dip our toes too deep into the political waters. That said, it would be disingenuous to pretend that we didn’t wake up this morning elated by what took place yesterday. Like most people, we had no idea a guy named Barack Obama existed until his keynote address at the 2004 Democratic Convention. After a dispiriting election in 2004, Ben bought Erin Dreams From My Father as a Christmas gift that year and inscribed it, “Here’s to 2005.” We’ve always been partial to Obama in large part because he’s a fantastic writer. His memoir is free of the kind of deadening, cautionary, self-calculating language that most politicians resort to in their books. Yet even when we read it then, there is no way we could have predicted what took place last night in Grant Park. And what took place! How often do we know we’re watching history as it unfolds? (When we tell the grandkids, we may exaggerate and say we were actually there. Forgive us! We wanted to be!) The temptation will be to hold on to those images forever, to pine for them the first time President Obama faces backlash from within his own party or makes a mistake or missteps politically or says something that gets him in hot water. That’s going to happen. He’s human. But that’s what we found reassuring about how subdued he seemed when he walked out to the podium last night. He looked like a man who knows how monumental the challenges ahead will be. Tonight is the answer, Obama said, to those who doubt that in America anything is possible, the answer “that led those who’ve been told for so long by so many to be cynical and fearful and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.” For once, a leader was telling us that there will be hard work and sacrifice needed. And so the bending goes on.


6 thoughts on “The Day After

  1. i snooze in the general direction of your reluctant wet toes.

    election, schmalection. how was the show with thao and some other people i don’t like as much? that tour’s here tomorrow. should i go?

    admittedly, this question is probably best suited to an email, but i think you all have taken to not answering my emails anymore. don’t know why i deserve that. one too many rick rolls?

    but that’s fine. we can carry on our correspondence in front of the general public. i have nothing to hide.

  2. Wait, what e-mails are you referring to? We weren’t aware we were shunning you.

    Go to the show. In the words of our friend Matthew Leathers, “I wanted to have Asian babies with [Thao]. Hot, man. Way hot.”

  3. of course you’re shunning me. and your unawareness makes it all the more hurtful.

    i don’t buy your advice. seems a little perfunctory. plus, i got my brightest diamond saturday and wolf parade follows shortly after.

    “asian babies,” huh? nice. well, that’s enough to lift my (admittedly shortlived) self-imposed ban on southern ohio bashing.

  4. I just tried to dial your number [773.227.7724] and it’s disconnected. Why do I not have your new number? I know, I know, what a sparkling metaphor for how disconnected I’ve been from holding up my end of the friendship.

    Since when did you need to limit yourself to good music? Why not have it all, Eric?

    Oh, right. You’re 32. Not the spry undergrad anymore! Heh heh! Enh.

    Can I have your new number?

  5. To be fair to Southern Ohio, I’m not from here. My racism stems from my Kentucky upbringing. It’s a special kind of hate down there.

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