Morning Thanks

Garrison Keillor once said we'd all be better off if we all started the day by giving thanks for just one thing. I'll try.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008


Nothing is more deadly, to life or fiction, than boredom. The moment a reader can see her way to the end of the story, the game is lost and the writer loses. It's just that simple.

But life is that way too--nothing is less fun than convention, than rote, than continuously filled expectation. Never saw Fight Club, but I know from my students who did, that that show hit something in them, something that was simply exhausted by nothing less than affluence. At least bleeding was real.

Yeah, well. The "fight club" that went on for the last few days resulted in a shocking win for Queen Clinton last night, contrary to everybody--absolutely everybody's--expectations. There was more than enough egg-on-the face to go around; CNN, MSNBC, Fox News all shared one characteristic for the first time in years: they were all omelet city.

Ironies abound, of course, because the only way to explain the unimaginable is to imagine. Could Clinton, who may well have voted for the Iraq War simply to show her toughness--could that woman have won because she teared up? Wow. She shows her vulnerability, the woman who seemingly had none, and she wins votes?

It was the old women who came through last night--the revenge of the crones. They were the ones who didn't fall for the rock star. Got to love it.

Meanwhile, who's helping Republicans more than anyone else?--Bill Clinton, who suddenly became the right wing's fair-haired boy by feeding the Republican machine more than it needs should Obama win, calling him the big fairy-tale and pointing that crooked left finger of his.

Amazing. An amazing night, too. Some of the phenom is gone from the Obama camp now, and that can only be good for him, for us, for the election itself. He rides in on a dream, and the rest of us have to wake up in the morning wondering who on earth we slept with.

But this has to be the most incredible Presidential sweepstakes of my lifetime. 1968 was great, even though I wasn't of voting age. But once Bobby was gone and Eugene McCarthy was out, Hubert sort of flat lined national spirit. Nixon won in a walk. Disaster followed.

Right now there are five viable candidates--the comeback kids of yesterday (Hillary and McCain), the Obama phenomena, Dudley Dooright Romney, and the Huckster. I'd vote for four of them--you can have the flip-flopper.

It's almost impossible to think the air is going to go out of this one. It's going to be a beauty right to the finish, methinks.

And that too is good for all of us. Nobody knows where this plot is headed, which means there ain't no Wall Street author, no big politics honcho running the show.

Nobody has a clue who's going to move into the White House, a year from now. Not a clue. Nobody even has an outside shot at guessing the candidates. What's more, there's likely more surprise down the road, and that's good for all of us--just as good as sight of a praying cowboy heading out to the Texas back-40 for good.

1 comment:

ricknieklikebike said...

The point is we vote right? I'm glad to be hearing more about what we like about means millions more people seem ready to vote. I want to be together on that one thing if anything. That's the American way. It's nice to know that when I'm out walking the back 40, that someone has my 20.