Happy New Year!
Well, 2008 is drawing to a close. What a year it was!
Barack Obama – who knew? A skinny kid with a funny name will become our 44th POTUS. I voted for him to be president of the Harvard Law Review. Who knew I would be voting for him for President of the United States? God is good, all the time!
On a sadder note, 2008 might be known as the Year the Laughter Died. We lost George Carlin and Bernie Mac. We also lost Isaac Hayes, too, even though he had stopped playing the role of “Chef” on Southpark a long time ago. Those Chef love songs used to make me so laugh so hard that I’d fall off my sofa.
We also lost all that was good and sexy from the 40’s and 50’s when we lost Eartha Kitt. My single girlfriends in Oakland would purr her famous line from “Boomerang” to our single guy friends just to mess with them: “Marrrrcuhhhhssss, I’m not wearing any pahhhhnnn—tieeees . . . .” And she’ll always be Catwoman to me, no apologies to Julie Newmar.
Although I wasn’t a Tim Russert acolyte, I did so miss his reporting during this election. He would have had a ball reporting on this one. Gone too soon, that one.
The economy is in the toilet, banks are getting bailed out while working folks are getting put out, and we’re a capitalist nation running largely on debt borrowed from a communist one. Who’da thunk it? And despite all the gloom and doom, I have the audacity to hope for better times ahead (nice tie-in, wouldn’t you say?).
On a personal note, I helped some kids in my family, I bought a house with BMNB and am FINALLY settled – my sister, the Writing Diva, declared it so – and I hope to finish either my novel or my self-help book in progress, run the Bay to Breakers, lose 40 pounds, and, if all goes well, adopt a child. Right now, I’ll settle for getting my garage cleaned out and my hair permed.
What do you have the audacity to hope for in the coming year? Whatever it is, I wish it for you as well as all the peace, prosperity and joy you can stand!
Happy 2009, y’all. In the words of those great philosophers, Earth, Wind and Fire, “Keep your head to the sky . . . . .”
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
What I'm Thankful For . . .
. . . An Obama presidency. If Sarah Palin had been elected Vice President, I think I would have . . . well, now I don’t have to.
. . . My blog, which is now over a year old. Happy Anniversary to me!
. . . My husband. He never ceases to amaze me. He is the most sanguine, chill person I know who doesn’t smoke weed.
. . . My friends. They suffer my failure to keep in touch and still keep me within their circles. They are the most non-judgmental people I know, although they will check me when I need it.
. . . My new home, the purchase of which has been one of numerous recent distractions keeping me from my blog. Now I’m trying to decide whether I want to work on getting all my younger nieces and nephews into homes of their own, because the wealth transfer that home ownership represents is too enormous for young parents to ignore. Plus, it’s so nice to be able to actually attach contact paper to the shelves, put holes in the wall, and plant whatever I damn well please without having to account to anyone.
. . . My job. I’m not always thrilled by the confrontational aspect of being an attorney, but in these uncertain times, I’d rather be employed. I’ve been unemployed, and it ain’t no party, not by a long shot.
. . . My blessings. For some reason, God continues to bless me even when I don’t expect it and don’t have a clue that a blessing is on its way. I’ve been down to my last few dollars, only to have refund checks I wasn’t expecting arrive in the mail. I agonized about how we would afford to get in our new home, and God sent my husband and me a heavenly mortgage broker who not only got us in, but got us a 30 year-fixed at a great rate. Just when I think I’m on the ropes, He comes through. As my dad always says, He may not come when you call him, but He’s always right on time. Are atheists as blessed, and, if so, to what do they attribute their blessings?
. . . My parents. I look at today's youth, and even at some of my contemporaries, and I can tell that many of them didn't grow up in a two-parent loving home. That's not to say that our family wasn't dysfunctional, but we were lovingly dysfunctional. I think my mom put the "fun" in dysfunctional.
. . . My siblings. I’ve been blessed to have been surrounded by siblings who are smarter, more clever, bolder, and funnier than me. Just talking to them makes me step up my analytical game and teaches me more than I’ve ever taught them or can ever hope to.
. . . My dog. She recently survived cancer and a tail amputation, and although the late-night barking does get on my nerves, the prospect of losing her while moving into our new home was more than I could bear. Since she had been a shelter dog – twice -- I wanted her to have a home of her own, too, as much as I was getting my own home. So if she kills the backyard lawn with her urine, so what? It’s her lawn to kill.
. . . My gifts. For whatever reason, I still have some creativity left that wasn’t drained out of me in my quest to become a lawyer. And no matter how many of my ideas I give away or get stolen from me, I always seem to come up with new ones. And some of them are good, too.
. . . My credit. Quite frankly, I don’t know what my FICO score is, but it was good enough to get BMNB and me into a new house in times of tightened credit. Having good credit is not a substitute for savings, but it is a backstop in difficult times.
. . . Teddy Kennedy’s continued survival. I’m so glad he lived to see Obama elected president. His brother Robert predicted the possibility of an African American president 40 years ago, and if he couldn’t live to see it, at least Teddy did. I hope Senator Kennedy is front and center at the inauguration, along with Caroline Kennedy.
. . .Michelle Obama. Finally, an African American woman who doesn’t fit the stereotype, won’t allow herself to be defined by others, and who has to be taken seriously be virtue of the position she holds. The office of First Lady is never, ever going to be the same.
. . . That I’m not cooking Thanksgiving Dinner. In a just world, women everywhere would sit on their collective behinds and watch Oprah reruns while men slave over hot stoves and ovens stuffing seasoned bread up a turkey’s ass and fretting over the flakiness of their pie crusts . . .
Happy Thanksgiving. And if you’re going to have a Happy Thanksgiving, remember those who aren’t and do a little something for them, too.
. . . My blog, which is now over a year old. Happy Anniversary to me!
. . . My husband. He never ceases to amaze me. He is the most sanguine, chill person I know who doesn’t smoke weed.
. . . My friends. They suffer my failure to keep in touch and still keep me within their circles. They are the most non-judgmental people I know, although they will check me when I need it.
. . . My new home, the purchase of which has been one of numerous recent distractions keeping me from my blog. Now I’m trying to decide whether I want to work on getting all my younger nieces and nephews into homes of their own, because the wealth transfer that home ownership represents is too enormous for young parents to ignore. Plus, it’s so nice to be able to actually attach contact paper to the shelves, put holes in the wall, and plant whatever I damn well please without having to account to anyone.
. . . My job. I’m not always thrilled by the confrontational aspect of being an attorney, but in these uncertain times, I’d rather be employed. I’ve been unemployed, and it ain’t no party, not by a long shot.
. . . My blessings. For some reason, God continues to bless me even when I don’t expect it and don’t have a clue that a blessing is on its way. I’ve been down to my last few dollars, only to have refund checks I wasn’t expecting arrive in the mail. I agonized about how we would afford to get in our new home, and God sent my husband and me a heavenly mortgage broker who not only got us in, but got us a 30 year-fixed at a great rate. Just when I think I’m on the ropes, He comes through. As my dad always says, He may not come when you call him, but He’s always right on time. Are atheists as blessed, and, if so, to what do they attribute their blessings?
. . . My parents. I look at today's youth, and even at some of my contemporaries, and I can tell that many of them didn't grow up in a two-parent loving home. That's not to say that our family wasn't dysfunctional, but we were lovingly dysfunctional. I think my mom put the "fun" in dysfunctional.
. . . My siblings. I’ve been blessed to have been surrounded by siblings who are smarter, more clever, bolder, and funnier than me. Just talking to them makes me step up my analytical game and teaches me more than I’ve ever taught them or can ever hope to.
. . . My dog. She recently survived cancer and a tail amputation, and although the late-night barking does get on my nerves, the prospect of losing her while moving into our new home was more than I could bear. Since she had been a shelter dog – twice -- I wanted her to have a home of her own, too, as much as I was getting my own home. So if she kills the backyard lawn with her urine, so what? It’s her lawn to kill.
. . . My gifts. For whatever reason, I still have some creativity left that wasn’t drained out of me in my quest to become a lawyer. And no matter how many of my ideas I give away or get stolen from me, I always seem to come up with new ones. And some of them are good, too.
. . . My credit. Quite frankly, I don’t know what my FICO score is, but it was good enough to get BMNB and me into a new house in times of tightened credit. Having good credit is not a substitute for savings, but it is a backstop in difficult times.
. . . Teddy Kennedy’s continued survival. I’m so glad he lived to see Obama elected president. His brother Robert predicted the possibility of an African American president 40 years ago, and if he couldn’t live to see it, at least Teddy did. I hope Senator Kennedy is front and center at the inauguration, along with Caroline Kennedy.
. . .Michelle Obama. Finally, an African American woman who doesn’t fit the stereotype, won’t allow herself to be defined by others, and who has to be taken seriously be virtue of the position she holds. The office of First Lady is never, ever going to be the same.
. . . That I’m not cooking Thanksgiving Dinner. In a just world, women everywhere would sit on their collective behinds and watch Oprah reruns while men slave over hot stoves and ovens stuffing seasoned bread up a turkey’s ass and fretting over the flakiness of their pie crusts . . .
Happy Thanksgiving. And if you’re going to have a Happy Thanksgiving, remember those who aren’t and do a little something for them, too.
This Is It: VOTE
For any African Americans who haven’t voted yet, I have only these words from the song “This Is It” by Kenny Loggins. Mind you, they’re out of context – they deal with Loggins’ dad’s failure to fight a debilitating illness head-on – but they do apply in this context:
For once in your life, here's your miracle
Stand up and fight
This is it
Make no mistake where you are
This is it
You're going no further
This is it
Until it's over and done
Vote. As African Americans, we are accountable for today’s presidential outcome – not only to our ancestors, but to the generations to come.
Vote.
For once in your life, here's your miracle
Stand up and fight
This is it
Make no mistake where you are
This is it
You're going no further
This is it
Until it's over and done
Vote. As African Americans, we are accountable for today’s presidential outcome – not only to our ancestors, but to the generations to come.
Vote.
Memo to Obama Camp: Ask The Damn Question
So far, I haven't heard the Obama campaign ask The Damn Question.
You know the question: The one question politicians are afraid to ask when they're running because they're afraid it will be turned back on them when they're in office.
You know the question:
"Are you better off now than you were eight years ago?"
Or, in the case of this failed Bush administration, "Are you better off under W than you were under the Bill?"
Somehow, we've allowed the country to lose focus of what's at stake: Four more years of being on the wrong track.
The Bush administration has failed this country domestically, internationally, environmentally, you name it. And people forget that we're not just electing a president (or vice president, for that matter), we're also electing a party. The likelihood that McCain won't drag back into office more Republican ideologues? Not high. Not high at all. Idealogues who paint Democrats as tax-and-spend liberals and then run up deficits and national debt. Idealogues who don't want to leave until there's victory in Iraq, but haven't defined what victory is. Idealogues who are just now accepting that global warming is for real. Idealogues who would invade Iran at the drop of a hat, or rather, at the hint of weapons of mass destruction (Oh, by the way, where are those weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, anyway?)
And personally, I'm tired of our nation being governed by "likeable" but average/stupid people. Yep, W may be likeable enough, but that's not a qualification for the job. Intelligence is. Good judgment is. The ability to work with Congress is. Not whether you can thow back a few beers or dress a moose. Or, in the case of Cheney, shoot your friends on a hunting trip.
I don't think any C student should labor under the misperception that he or she can be President of the United States. It should be a job reserved for the most intelligent among us, not the most likeable. Too much is at stake. Did W know that Russia would eventually invade Georgia (Gov. Palin: That would be the former Soviet bloc country, not the state south of the Mason-Dixon line) when he "looked into Putin's soul?" I don't want a soul-looking president; I want a president who is sharp enought to assemble sharp enough staff to provide good intelligence briefings that are actually paid attention to (that means you, Condi Rice).
Average, likeable people don't belong in the White House. They belong in the shoe department at Macy's.
So, Obama Camp, you've brought us supporters too far to eff up now by being silent.
Ask the Damn Question.
You know the question: The one question politicians are afraid to ask when they're running because they're afraid it will be turned back on them when they're in office.
You know the question:
"Are you better off now than you were eight years ago?"
Or, in the case of this failed Bush administration, "Are you better off under W than you were under the Bill?"
Somehow, we've allowed the country to lose focus of what's at stake: Four more years of being on the wrong track.
The Bush administration has failed this country domestically, internationally, environmentally, you name it. And people forget that we're not just electing a president (or vice president, for that matter), we're also electing a party. The likelihood that McCain won't drag back into office more Republican ideologues? Not high. Not high at all. Idealogues who paint Democrats as tax-and-spend liberals and then run up deficits and national debt. Idealogues who don't want to leave until there's victory in Iraq, but haven't defined what victory is. Idealogues who are just now accepting that global warming is for real. Idealogues who would invade Iran at the drop of a hat, or rather, at the hint of weapons of mass destruction (Oh, by the way, where are those weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, anyway?)
And personally, I'm tired of our nation being governed by "likeable" but average/stupid people. Yep, W may be likeable enough, but that's not a qualification for the job. Intelligence is. Good judgment is. The ability to work with Congress is. Not whether you can thow back a few beers or dress a moose. Or, in the case of Cheney, shoot your friends on a hunting trip.
I don't think any C student should labor under the misperception that he or she can be President of the United States. It should be a job reserved for the most intelligent among us, not the most likeable. Too much is at stake. Did W know that Russia would eventually invade Georgia (Gov. Palin: That would be the former Soviet bloc country, not the state south of the Mason-Dixon line) when he "looked into Putin's soul?" I don't want a soul-looking president; I want a president who is sharp enought to assemble sharp enough staff to provide good intelligence briefings that are actually paid attention to (that means you, Condi Rice).
Average, likeable people don't belong in the White House. They belong in the shoe department at Macy's.
So, Obama Camp, you've brought us supporters too far to eff up now by being silent.
Ask the Damn Question.
The Council of Meat Bees
I don’t know whether Senator Obama or Senator McCain will be the next president, but I do know that what the next POTUS should have is a Council of Meat Bees.
What is a meat bee, you ask?
I found out a while back that I’m a meat bee. Or at least as persistent as one.
When I first started working for a state agency, I was in a meeting with a boss of mine who was meticulous to a fault, seemed to enjoy elevating form over substance, and was constantly correcting the work of others without regard to whether the corrections were needed. We were in a meeting, and in the meeting he glossed over something he had gotten wrong. In the spirit of tit-for-tat, I pointed it out.
“But you were wrong.”
My boss continued his schpiel as if he didn’t hear me. When there was a break, I said it again:
“But you were wrong.”
He eyed me dismissively and continued with his talk. When he ended, I turned to him, looked him directly in the eyes, and said, “Why do you have so much trouble admitting you were wrong?”
By that point, he had had it with me. His normally happy baby blue eyes turned cold and hardened:
“My God, you are as persistent as meat bee! Let it go!”
Meat bee? I had to ask.
“What’s a meat bee?”
He leaned in and looked harder, all the more to drive the point home that he was the boss and I was the subordinate:
“You know those pesky bees that buzz around your barbecue and don’t give up until you set aside a plate of meat just for them? Those are meat bees. You, my dear, are a meat bee.”
It wasn’t a compliment. But I take it as one.
What the next president needs is a council of women who are as persistent as meat bees, to wit, A Council of Meat Bees: Fifty women over fifty from all walks of life who have overcome extreme adversity because, well, they were as persistent as meat bees. I’m talking about women who have overcome cancer, were or are caregivers to ailing parents, have raised large families by themselves, survived domestic abuse, have overcome being widowed to head a family business, etc. You know – your everyday heroine. And I do mean all walks of life – regardless of political affiliation, religious affiliation, race, etc. The only qualifications would be that 1) They’re women over fifty; 2) they’ve overcome adversity; 3) they are willing to serve as advocates for women who are facing the same adversity they did; 4) they’ve never served in a political office; and, most importantly, 5) no matter what, they have to tell the President the truth about what they experienced and what they see other women like them going through, even if he doesn’t want to hear it. In other words, they have to be as persistent as meat bees.
What would a Council of Meat Bees do?
For starters, they would meet with the president every month and advise him on issues relating to women – work issues, family issues, health issues, you name it. They would be paid a nominal fee and would be flown in and put up by the president’s political party, not the federal government. I think both the DNC and the RNC can afford it.
Second, they would help the president shape his political agenda as it relates to women.
Third, once the president has shaped his political agenda, they would propose policies that could be implement by the federal government and legislation that would further the president’s political agenda as it relates to women.
Fourth, they would lobby Congress regarding their proposed legislation.
Mind you, I don’t expect the Meat Bees to agree. Strong, persistent survivor-women may not. What I would expect is that they reach common ground on problems common to women and put the concerns of women like them above any differences they may have.
Oh, and the Council would be chosen half by lottery, half by the First Lady.
Are you a Meat Bee?
What is a meat bee, you ask?
I found out a while back that I’m a meat bee. Or at least as persistent as one.
When I first started working for a state agency, I was in a meeting with a boss of mine who was meticulous to a fault, seemed to enjoy elevating form over substance, and was constantly correcting the work of others without regard to whether the corrections were needed. We were in a meeting, and in the meeting he glossed over something he had gotten wrong. In the spirit of tit-for-tat, I pointed it out.
“But you were wrong.”
My boss continued his schpiel as if he didn’t hear me. When there was a break, I said it again:
“But you were wrong.”
He eyed me dismissively and continued with his talk. When he ended, I turned to him, looked him directly in the eyes, and said, “Why do you have so much trouble admitting you were wrong?”
By that point, he had had it with me. His normally happy baby blue eyes turned cold and hardened:
“My God, you are as persistent as meat bee! Let it go!”
Meat bee? I had to ask.
“What’s a meat bee?”
He leaned in and looked harder, all the more to drive the point home that he was the boss and I was the subordinate:
“You know those pesky bees that buzz around your barbecue and don’t give up until you set aside a plate of meat just for them? Those are meat bees. You, my dear, are a meat bee.”
It wasn’t a compliment. But I take it as one.
What the next president needs is a council of women who are as persistent as meat bees, to wit, A Council of Meat Bees: Fifty women over fifty from all walks of life who have overcome extreme adversity because, well, they were as persistent as meat bees. I’m talking about women who have overcome cancer, were or are caregivers to ailing parents, have raised large families by themselves, survived domestic abuse, have overcome being widowed to head a family business, etc. You know – your everyday heroine. And I do mean all walks of life – regardless of political affiliation, religious affiliation, race, etc. The only qualifications would be that 1) They’re women over fifty; 2) they’ve overcome adversity; 3) they are willing to serve as advocates for women who are facing the same adversity they did; 4) they’ve never served in a political office; and, most importantly, 5) no matter what, they have to tell the President the truth about what they experienced and what they see other women like them going through, even if he doesn’t want to hear it. In other words, they have to be as persistent as meat bees.
What would a Council of Meat Bees do?
For starters, they would meet with the president every month and advise him on issues relating to women – work issues, family issues, health issues, you name it. They would be paid a nominal fee and would be flown in and put up by the president’s political party, not the federal government. I think both the DNC and the RNC can afford it.
Second, they would help the president shape his political agenda as it relates to women.
Third, once the president has shaped his political agenda, they would propose policies that could be implement by the federal government and legislation that would further the president’s political agenda as it relates to women.
Fourth, they would lobby Congress regarding their proposed legislation.
Mind you, I don’t expect the Meat Bees to agree. Strong, persistent survivor-women may not. What I would expect is that they reach common ground on problems common to women and put the concerns of women like them above any differences they may have.
Oh, and the Council would be chosen half by lottery, half by the First Lady.
Are you a Meat Bee?
It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To
The Clintons redeemed themselves.
Hillary gave the speech of a lifetime and was the portrait of magnanimity by voicing her unequivocal, unconditional support for Barack Obama. By making the motion to nominate Senator Obama by acclaimation, she showed the nation's women how a real woman loses -- with grace, dignity, and pride.
President Bill Clinton, the DNC's prosecutor-in-chief, laid out, in no uncertain terms, the case against the Bush administration and the Republican party.
And Senator Obama reminded me why I am a Democrat and made me proud to be one once again. My love-hate relationship with the party is no secret. Today, I'm a born-again Democrat. Because I, too, believe we are a better nation than what we have been during the past eight years.
I had to work late last night, so I missed hearing Obama's acceptance speech live except for the last of it on NPR. So, snuggled up with a stack of reading from work and some Otter Pops (for the hot flashes), I watched the speech on CNN near midnight.
I am in awe. I knew Senator Obama was possessed of great oratorical and intellectual gifts, but as the young folks say, he broke it down -- he laid out in plain English what he's going to do and why we -- not just him -- are going to do it.
And he's so right -- the McCains of the world don't get it. His candidacy isn't about him; it's about us, everyday American citizens who can no longer stand by and watch our government serve the interests of those who don't have our best interests at heart.
When he reminded us, in language reminiscent of the Kennedys and Dr. King, that "we are better nation than this," it was all that I could do not to cry. He gave life to the feelings of everyday Americans like myself.
So, today, I'm fired up and ready to go. I will be hosting a phone banking event at my home -- tentatively titled, "Burgers and Beer for Barack" -- and will do what I can to get as many people registered to vote as possible.
Why? Because I'm a Democrat. A proud Democrat. A Democrat who was almost brought to tears when she was reminded by Senator Obama of what my party and my nation can be.
Because it's my Party and I'll cry if I want to.
Hillary gave the speech of a lifetime and was the portrait of magnanimity by voicing her unequivocal, unconditional support for Barack Obama. By making the motion to nominate Senator Obama by acclaimation, she showed the nation's women how a real woman loses -- with grace, dignity, and pride.
President Bill Clinton, the DNC's prosecutor-in-chief, laid out, in no uncertain terms, the case against the Bush administration and the Republican party.
And Senator Obama reminded me why I am a Democrat and made me proud to be one once again. My love-hate relationship with the party is no secret. Today, I'm a born-again Democrat. Because I, too, believe we are a better nation than what we have been during the past eight years.
I had to work late last night, so I missed hearing Obama's acceptance speech live except for the last of it on NPR. So, snuggled up with a stack of reading from work and some Otter Pops (for the hot flashes), I watched the speech on CNN near midnight.
I am in awe. I knew Senator Obama was possessed of great oratorical and intellectual gifts, but as the young folks say, he broke it down -- he laid out in plain English what he's going to do and why we -- not just him -- are going to do it.
And he's so right -- the McCains of the world don't get it. His candidacy isn't about him; it's about us, everyday American citizens who can no longer stand by and watch our government serve the interests of those who don't have our best interests at heart.
When he reminded us, in language reminiscent of the Kennedys and Dr. King, that "we are better nation than this," it was all that I could do not to cry. He gave life to the feelings of everyday Americans like myself.
So, today, I'm fired up and ready to go. I will be hosting a phone banking event at my home -- tentatively titled, "Burgers and Beer for Barack" -- and will do what I can to get as many people registered to vote as possible.
Why? Because I'm a Democrat. A proud Democrat. A Democrat who was almost brought to tears when she was reminded by Senator Obama of what my party and my nation can be.
Because it's my Party and I'll cry if I want to.
Obama Victorious
Despite all the mud that was slung, despite trite little debate zingers such as “change we can Xerox,” despite facing the might and heft of a decades-old political machine, Senator Barack Obama claimed victory and the mantle of leadership for the Democratic Party going into this year’s presidential election.
Now I won’t have to vote for McCain, despite the fact that the Michigan and Florida delegations were partially seated -- seated despite the fact that both states’ delegations were to be sanctioned because their state parties moved up their primaries. Ooh wee, when the Democratic Party leadership threatens sanctions, we now know that even the sanctions are negotiable.
It would be too easy to do a victory dance, to laugh off Bill Clinton’s latest efforts to lay blame for a post-presidential bimbo eruption at the feet of the Obama campaign, and to dismiss Hillary in search of a much more likeable female vice presidential candidate – Janet Napolitano, anyone?
But I have to admit – I think Obama needs to put Hillary on the ticket. To keep the peace, unify the party, and move forward.
I know he probably doesn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. But such mismatched presidential pairings aren’t new. Kennedy supposedly wasn’t fond of Johnson, Eisenhower wasn’t fond of Nixon, and Roosevelt wasn’t fond of Truman. Sometimes ya gots to do what ya gots to do. Besides, despite the Clintons’ profound inability to “get off the stage,” so to speak, I think they and the sizeable brain trust to which they have access should be put to work in getting the nation back on track. Put Hillary back to work on healthcare. Make Bill the U.S. Ambassador to the U.N. or special envoy to Iraq. Let them do what they appear to do best – solve problems and shine. What harm will it do? Heck, I’d even consider Hillary for the next spot on the U.S. Supreme Court if I were Obama. It would get her out of the cabinet and out of his hair. Plus, the job pays more than that of Senator or Vice President, and it’s a lifetime appointment in D.C. You know the Clintons love them some D.C.
Despite my misgivings about Hill and Bill, I don’t think they can or should be easily dismissed from playing a role in the next administration. As far as the party goes, well, they’re kinda like, well, family. Creepy family, but family nonetheless.
Now I won’t have to vote for McCain, despite the fact that the Michigan and Florida delegations were partially seated -- seated despite the fact that both states’ delegations were to be sanctioned because their state parties moved up their primaries. Ooh wee, when the Democratic Party leadership threatens sanctions, we now know that even the sanctions are negotiable.
It would be too easy to do a victory dance, to laugh off Bill Clinton’s latest efforts to lay blame for a post-presidential bimbo eruption at the feet of the Obama campaign, and to dismiss Hillary in search of a much more likeable female vice presidential candidate – Janet Napolitano, anyone?
But I have to admit – I think Obama needs to put Hillary on the ticket. To keep the peace, unify the party, and move forward.
I know he probably doesn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. But such mismatched presidential pairings aren’t new. Kennedy supposedly wasn’t fond of Johnson, Eisenhower wasn’t fond of Nixon, and Roosevelt wasn’t fond of Truman. Sometimes ya gots to do what ya gots to do. Besides, despite the Clintons’ profound inability to “get off the stage,” so to speak, I think they and the sizeable brain trust to which they have access should be put to work in getting the nation back on track. Put Hillary back to work on healthcare. Make Bill the U.S. Ambassador to the U.N. or special envoy to Iraq. Let them do what they appear to do best – solve problems and shine. What harm will it do? Heck, I’d even consider Hillary for the next spot on the U.S. Supreme Court if I were Obama. It would get her out of the cabinet and out of his hair. Plus, the job pays more than that of Senator or Vice President, and it’s a lifetime appointment in D.C. You know the Clintons love them some D.C.
Despite my misgivings about Hill and Bill, I don’t think they can or should be easily dismissed from playing a role in the next administration. As far as the party goes, well, they’re kinda like, well, family. Creepy family, but family nonetheless.
If Virginia Is For Lovers, Is West Virginia For Bigots?
On Sunday, my local paper featured a column by Miami Herald columnist Leonard Pitts regarding West Virginia and the “problem” some of its residents seem to have with voting for Barack Obama. The column stated that, according to exit polls from their primary, two out of every 10 voters stated that race was a major factor in how they cast their ballots. Mr. Pitts referred to a clip from “The Daily Show” featuring a white woman who explained her refusal to vote for Obama: “I guess because he is another race. I’m sort of scared of the other race ‘cause we have so much conflict with ‘em.” Pitts went on to remark how sad he found this and made a point that Critical Race Theory scholars from Derrick Bell on down have been making for decades: That the white poor have been victims of a con job by rich whites, who have used them as fodder to maintain their own socio-economic status going back to the “states’ rights” justification for the Civil War and continuing on with them as the front line of white supremacy. As Derrick Bell would say, instead of forging an alliance with poor blacks based on shared interests, poor whites would rather cling to their supposed white privilege and look down on blacks instead of realizing that their alliance with rich whites based on perceived common white privilege has been of little or no benefit to them.
Pitts put it well:
My point is that race has often been used as a means of distracting and diverting the white poor. They had little in life, nor any realistic expectation of having more. But the one thing they did have – or so the con went – was whiteness itself. Which meant they had someone to be better than. Someone to look down upon.
Pitts is far more charitable than I am. I don’t see poor whites who believe as that one West Virginia woman does as victims because I think that’s too condescending and lets them off easy for a conscious choice. I think they choose to be disassociated from blacks because they can’t possibly imagine that people they perceive to be beneath them could be of benefit to them.
Funny. I’m sure that’s what rich whites think of them.
I would ask them, in the words of Dr. Phil, “How’s that Republican party been workin’ for you the last eight years?” If they would be so shallow as to vote for McCain over Obama solely because of Obama’s race despite Obama’s promise to overhaul a government that has worked more against them than for them, well then, they deserve their sorry lot in Appalachia.
Which leads me to question: If Virginia is for lovers, is West Virginia for bigots?
Pitts put it well:
My point is that race has often been used as a means of distracting and diverting the white poor. They had little in life, nor any realistic expectation of having more. But the one thing they did have – or so the con went – was whiteness itself. Which meant they had someone to be better than. Someone to look down upon.
Pitts is far more charitable than I am. I don’t see poor whites who believe as that one West Virginia woman does as victims because I think that’s too condescending and lets them off easy for a conscious choice. I think they choose to be disassociated from blacks because they can’t possibly imagine that people they perceive to be beneath them could be of benefit to them.
Funny. I’m sure that’s what rich whites think of them.
I would ask them, in the words of Dr. Phil, “How’s that Republican party been workin’ for you the last eight years?” If they would be so shallow as to vote for McCain over Obama solely because of Obama’s race despite Obama’s promise to overhaul a government that has worked more against them than for them, well then, they deserve their sorry lot in Appalachia.
Which leads me to question: If Virginia is for lovers, is West Virginia for bigots?
If They Steal It, I Will Walk
Black Democrats need to have their own nuclear option going into the convention in Denver. Here’s mine: If they steal it, I will walk.
That is, if the Democratic party steals the nomination from Obama by increasing the number of delegates needed to secure the nomination or seating the Florida or Michigan delegations, I will not only not vote Democratic, I will vote for McCain.
I say this as a third-generation Democrat, the granddaughter of a black woman who named her twin sons after Franklin D. Roosevelt and Huey P. Long. Yes, I come from those kind of Democrats, blacks who have been loyal to the party since Roosevelt. Loyal despite moves not to seat the integrated Democrat delegation from Mississippi from the ‘60’s to appease racist white Southern Democrats (Fannie Lou Hamer, anyone?). Loyal through a bunch of loser nominees like Dukakis.
It’s time for the loyalty that blacks have demonstrated time and again to the Democratic Party to be returned in kind. I’m not asking for special favors for Obama; I’m just asking that the rules not be changed from what the candidates started with in order to alter the outcome specifically in favor of Senator Clinton.
Word on the street and in the press is that Senator Clinton is telling superdelegates that she should be the party’s nominee because she’s attracting rural and blue collar white voters who won’t vote for Obama, but that blacks and latinos will vote Democrat no matter who the nominee is.
Oh, I see.
But not this year, sister.
I’m not afraid to punish this party by taking it out on the country. Black people have survived administrations I would politely call “not African-American friendly” (Reagan, Bush I, Bush II). We can survive another Republican administration. Hell, we survived slavery. We are the people who can “make a way out of no way” and can “make a dollar out of fifteen cents.” Four years of McCain? Yeah, I can do that if it means getting the Democratic party to respect the will of African American voters.
So, I have my nuclear option in place. If you’re a black Democrat, you better have yours.
That is, if the Democratic party steals the nomination from Obama by increasing the number of delegates needed to secure the nomination or seating the Florida or Michigan delegations, I will not only not vote Democratic, I will vote for McCain.
I say this as a third-generation Democrat, the granddaughter of a black woman who named her twin sons after Franklin D. Roosevelt and Huey P. Long. Yes, I come from those kind of Democrats, blacks who have been loyal to the party since Roosevelt. Loyal despite moves not to seat the integrated Democrat delegation from Mississippi from the ‘60’s to appease racist white Southern Democrats (Fannie Lou Hamer, anyone?). Loyal through a bunch of loser nominees like Dukakis.
It’s time for the loyalty that blacks have demonstrated time and again to the Democratic Party to be returned in kind. I’m not asking for special favors for Obama; I’m just asking that the rules not be changed from what the candidates started with in order to alter the outcome specifically in favor of Senator Clinton.
Word on the street and in the press is that Senator Clinton is telling superdelegates that she should be the party’s nominee because she’s attracting rural and blue collar white voters who won’t vote for Obama, but that blacks and latinos will vote Democrat no matter who the nominee is.
Oh, I see.
But not this year, sister.
I’m not afraid to punish this party by taking it out on the country. Black people have survived administrations I would politely call “not African-American friendly” (Reagan, Bush I, Bush II). We can survive another Republican administration. Hell, we survived slavery. We are the people who can “make a way out of no way” and can “make a dollar out of fifteen cents.” Four years of McCain? Yeah, I can do that if it means getting the Democratic party to respect the will of African American voters.
So, I have my nuclear option in place. If you’re a black Democrat, you better have yours.
Dude, Where's My Lawn Sign?
I joked about it. With family, friends, and online.
But I didn’t really think it could happen.
Now really, who would be so bold? Bold enough to come like a thief in the night – literally – and take it.
Take what, you ask?
My Obama for President lawn sign. Somebody actually had the nerve, the temerity, the – whatever you want to call it – to rip my lawn sign from its rusty posts and leave the posts behind as some wicked monument to their crime.
Evildoers!
Well, to whomever it was, you’re on notice: I got more money than you’ve got cojones. There will be another Obama for President lawn sign on my front lawn. And with each purchase, the Obama campaign gets $14.00 richer. That’s right –stealing my lawn sign will only make the Obama campaign that much richer.
But don’t let me catch you. ‘Cause I will -- as they say down South – “beat you like you stole something.”
But I didn’t really think it could happen.
Now really, who would be so bold? Bold enough to come like a thief in the night – literally – and take it.
Take what, you ask?
My Obama for President lawn sign. Somebody actually had the nerve, the temerity, the – whatever you want to call it – to rip my lawn sign from its rusty posts and leave the posts behind as some wicked monument to their crime.
Evildoers!
Well, to whomever it was, you’re on notice: I got more money than you’ve got cojones. There will be another Obama for President lawn sign on my front lawn. And with each purchase, the Obama campaign gets $14.00 richer. That’s right –stealing my lawn sign will only make the Obama campaign that much richer.
But don’t let me catch you. ‘Cause I will -- as they say down South – “beat you like you stole something.”
This Is A Chance, This Is A Chance
This is a chance
This is a chance
Dance your way
Out of your constrictions
“One Nation Under A Groove,” Funkadelics
I knew it would happen sooner or later. I wondered how long the Democratic Primary could continue without facing the issue of race and how it shapes us and our experiences. For some reason, in the good ol’ U.S. of A., discussions of race are tantamount to discussing one’s salary, religion, or porn preferences. Senator Obama got caught at the intersection (crosshairs?) of race and religion, and he turned it back on America: Hey, we all do and say things that are racist.
Yeah, like I’m sure Bill Clinton has objected every time he heard some white southerner use the N-word.
But I’m glad it happened. Now we’re free to really talk about it – the fact that, yes, Barack Obama experiences this country differently –as do most African Americans – because we ARE African American. This is a chance to really talk about race and the fact that African Americans are no less American, no less patriotic, for pointing out racial inequities that occur even to this day -- Geraldine Ferraro, anyone? Was Michelle Obama any less an American, any less patriotic, when she pointed out that this was the first time in her adult life that she was proud of this country? Heck, my dad is an 82 year-old World War II vet, and I’m sure that the Obama campaign is the first time he’s been proud of this country in his adult life. Coming from the Depression-era Jim Crow south and serving in a racialized military, this country hasn’t given him much to be proud of. We’re rife with hypocrisy – sending black men to fight in the European theater to end facism, only to have them come home and have to fight for the same freedom they helped secure for whites abroad. The American experience is not monolithic, and there’s a lot to not be proud of. And saying so doesn’t make any of us less American or any less patriotic. The white race-free experience is not the only one.
Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s sermon, looped interminably on YouTube, opens the door to having this frank conversation. And we shouldn’t fear it. It is an opportunity to “dance our way out of our constrictions,” i.e., the false construct that race doesn’t and shouldn’t matter and that to discuss race is to create differences instead of just acknowledging them. The only times in my life when I have been free of dealing with the race thing is when I’ve been somewhere where blacks are in the majority and I could pass for as long as I kept my mouth shut – Jamaica, Bahamas, St. Lucia.
Think about the irony of all this. Now everyone wants to know exactly what goes on in black churches. One white woman commented yesterday on NPR that she didn't feel welcome in the Black church (BTW, there are many black churches -- Baptist, Church of God in Christ, Catholic, African Methodist Episcopal, Apostolic, even African Orthodox Church of Saint John Coltrane -- but I digress). But we didn’t create black churches per se. Black churches were all that we were allowed to have because we weren’t allowed to worship with whites in this country at its inception. Where whites created subordination, now they see subversion. How rich is that?
And if you really want to know what happens in black churches, attend one. As the pastor who performed my wedding ceremony, Rev. Harris, said, “Black people spend more time in church than white folks because we have more issues to work out.” True that. When you consistently occupy the subordinate position in society, when you are constantly defined as “the other” and “what not to be,” when you are consistently shown the back hand of the law, well, if that doesn’t put you at the altar on a regular basis as a Black person, you’re probably self-medicating or in denial.
As I used to say when I lived in Mississippi, “Jesus saves, because white folks don’t even have a clue that the only thing keeping black folks from beating them down when the do and say racist things IS Jesus.”
Can I say that and not be a racist? Can we at least have the discussion without me being called a racist or less patriotic?
And now that we have race on the table, so to speak, memo to the Obama campaign: Now that you can’t deny the role of race in America and in this campaign, can we please change the campaign theme song to “One Nation Under A Groove”? Because even with our embedded racism, sexism, classism and other isms, at the end of the day, we are, with all our flaws, still just one nation.
Besides, I can’t help but smile when I think of a President Obama ending his first press conference with the line, “Giving you more of what you’re funkin’ for . . . “ Might be too much to hope for.
To quote another great George Clinton song, “Free you mind, and your ass will follow.”
This is a chance
Dance your way
Out of your constrictions
“One Nation Under A Groove,” Funkadelics
I knew it would happen sooner or later. I wondered how long the Democratic Primary could continue without facing the issue of race and how it shapes us and our experiences. For some reason, in the good ol’ U.S. of A., discussions of race are tantamount to discussing one’s salary, religion, or porn preferences. Senator Obama got caught at the intersection (crosshairs?) of race and religion, and he turned it back on America: Hey, we all do and say things that are racist.
Yeah, like I’m sure Bill Clinton has objected every time he heard some white southerner use the N-word.
But I’m glad it happened. Now we’re free to really talk about it – the fact that, yes, Barack Obama experiences this country differently –as do most African Americans – because we ARE African American. This is a chance to really talk about race and the fact that African Americans are no less American, no less patriotic, for pointing out racial inequities that occur even to this day -- Geraldine Ferraro, anyone? Was Michelle Obama any less an American, any less patriotic, when she pointed out that this was the first time in her adult life that she was proud of this country? Heck, my dad is an 82 year-old World War II vet, and I’m sure that the Obama campaign is the first time he’s been proud of this country in his adult life. Coming from the Depression-era Jim Crow south and serving in a racialized military, this country hasn’t given him much to be proud of. We’re rife with hypocrisy – sending black men to fight in the European theater to end facism, only to have them come home and have to fight for the same freedom they helped secure for whites abroad. The American experience is not monolithic, and there’s a lot to not be proud of. And saying so doesn’t make any of us less American or any less patriotic. The white race-free experience is not the only one.
Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s sermon, looped interminably on YouTube, opens the door to having this frank conversation. And we shouldn’t fear it. It is an opportunity to “dance our way out of our constrictions,” i.e., the false construct that race doesn’t and shouldn’t matter and that to discuss race is to create differences instead of just acknowledging them. The only times in my life when I have been free of dealing with the race thing is when I’ve been somewhere where blacks are in the majority and I could pass for as long as I kept my mouth shut – Jamaica, Bahamas, St. Lucia.
Think about the irony of all this. Now everyone wants to know exactly what goes on in black churches. One white woman commented yesterday on NPR that she didn't feel welcome in the Black church (BTW, there are many black churches -- Baptist, Church of God in Christ, Catholic, African Methodist Episcopal, Apostolic, even African Orthodox Church of Saint John Coltrane -- but I digress). But we didn’t create black churches per se. Black churches were all that we were allowed to have because we weren’t allowed to worship with whites in this country at its inception. Where whites created subordination, now they see subversion. How rich is that?
And if you really want to know what happens in black churches, attend one. As the pastor who performed my wedding ceremony, Rev. Harris, said, “Black people spend more time in church than white folks because we have more issues to work out.” True that. When you consistently occupy the subordinate position in society, when you are constantly defined as “the other” and “what not to be,” when you are consistently shown the back hand of the law, well, if that doesn’t put you at the altar on a regular basis as a Black person, you’re probably self-medicating or in denial.
As I used to say when I lived in Mississippi, “Jesus saves, because white folks don’t even have a clue that the only thing keeping black folks from beating them down when the do and say racist things IS Jesus.”
Can I say that and not be a racist? Can we at least have the discussion without me being called a racist or less patriotic?
And now that we have race on the table, so to speak, memo to the Obama campaign: Now that you can’t deny the role of race in America and in this campaign, can we please change the campaign theme song to “One Nation Under A Groove”? Because even with our embedded racism, sexism, classism and other isms, at the end of the day, we are, with all our flaws, still just one nation.
Besides, I can’t help but smile when I think of a President Obama ending his first press conference with the line, “Giving you more of what you’re funkin’ for . . . “ Might be too much to hope for.
To quote another great George Clinton song, “Free you mind, and your ass will follow.”
Memo to the DNC: The Solution Is Not That Hard; Even Two Ivy League-Educated Lawyers Should Be Able To Figure It Out
Howard Dean is nervous, as well he should be. The prospect of a Clinton-Obama slugfest going well into April while John McCain sits back and watches is not a happy thought, especially when the Democratic Party has the makings of a Dream Team ticket.
One only need pay attention to the total numbers of voters participating in the Democratic primaries versus those participating in the Republican primaries to see the almost 2-1 margin Democrats have in sheer numbers of voters. It would be a shame if any of these energized voters sat on their hands in November.
Well, it doesn’t have to be that way. The solution is so simple, even two Ivy League-educated lawyers should be able to figure it out.
Clinton and Obama should agree to run together. The candidate who wins the most number of pledged delegates (delegates won as a result of primary and caucus voting) should be at the top of the ticket. The superdelegates should only anoint as the presidential candidate the candidate who won the most delegates. No do-over in Michigan and Florida, and those delegates should not be seated.
Game freakin’over.
Think the big wigs at the DNC can figure this out?
One only need pay attention to the total numbers of voters participating in the Democratic primaries versus those participating in the Republican primaries to see the almost 2-1 margin Democrats have in sheer numbers of voters. It would be a shame if any of these energized voters sat on their hands in November.
Well, it doesn’t have to be that way. The solution is so simple, even two Ivy League-educated lawyers should be able to figure it out.
Clinton and Obama should agree to run together. The candidate who wins the most number of pledged delegates (delegates won as a result of primary and caucus voting) should be at the top of the ticket. The superdelegates should only anoint as the presidential candidate the candidate who won the most delegates. No do-over in Michigan and Florida, and those delegates should not be seated.
Game freakin’over.
Think the big wigs at the DNC can figure this out?
The Fact Is (I Need You) (With Apologies to Jill Scott)
And even though I can do all of these things by myself,
I need you . .
“The Fact Is (I Need You)” by Jill Scott
Welcome back, Hillary. With a little negative campaigning and fear mongering, you managed to revive a campaign that was on life support. I may not admire your methods, but I do admire your tenacity. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’ve been reading my blog. You’re now describing yourself as a fighter, and you’re stating that the campaign is a job interview. Yep, you’re so cribbing my blog. But I ain’t mad at you.
And I hear you made an effort to reach out to Obama, saying you’d be happy to have him on the ticket. As Vice President.
Of course you would. Because you can’t beat John McCain by yourself, and you can’t draw the same number of voters by yourself. But a Clinton/Obama ticket? Priceless.
So, to borrow from a Jill Scott song, the fact is, you need him.
But have you thought that perhaps the fact that you need him means that you should be the Vice President on the ticket?
Just a thought.
I need you . .
“The Fact Is (I Need You)” by Jill Scott
Welcome back, Hillary. With a little negative campaigning and fear mongering, you managed to revive a campaign that was on life support. I may not admire your methods, but I do admire your tenacity. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’ve been reading my blog. You’re now describing yourself as a fighter, and you’re stating that the campaign is a job interview. Yep, you’re so cribbing my blog. But I ain’t mad at you.
And I hear you made an effort to reach out to Obama, saying you’d be happy to have him on the ticket. As Vice President.
Of course you would. Because you can’t beat John McCain by yourself, and you can’t draw the same number of voters by yourself. But a Clinton/Obama ticket? Priceless.
So, to borrow from a Jill Scott song, the fact is, you need him.
But have you thought that perhaps the fact that you need him means that you should be the Vice President on the ticket?
Just a thought.
Feeling Obamalicious
Yep, today is Super Tuesday – or rather, Super Duper Tuesday or Fat Tuesday if you’re in New Orleans or Mobile – and I’m feeling Obamalicious.
Yep, even in California, I like Obama’s chances. He doesn’t have to win all of the Latino vote – just pick off enough and continue to do as well with independents and black voters such that there will still be a Democratic primary to speak of after today.
I’ve got my Obama lawn sign up – no one stole it yet – and I’m still reeling from the unprecedented turnout of African American women who made up thirty-five percent of the voters in the South Carolina Democratic primary, where eighty-one percent of the black vote went to Obama.
And I’m still in awe of the Obamaudacity of the young voters who continue to turn out, do phone banking, and make their hope tangible. I applaud you. You’re the reason why I decided to support Obama in the first place.
As I discussed with BMNB, I don’t think Hillary gets how her words and actions play out. This is the year of integrity and intelligence, and, IMHO, candidates who don’t have both won’t make it. I’m not a Southerner, but I lived there long enough to know that Hillary’s abrupt departure from South Carolina – before the polls closed and without even making a public speech there to thank supporters – probably wasn’t received well. Her departure was the functional equivalent of saying, “NEXT!,” as if South Carolina didn’t matter. Well, respect and decorum do matter in the South.
If she wins the nomination, she’ll have to come back through there again. Hmm.
And her remark on Letterman – “In my White House, people will know who wears the pant suit in the family” – hmm, probably not received well in dress country, i.e. the South.
At this point, both Bill and Hill seem a little disingenuous, a little manipulative (what with Bill putting his foot in his mouth in his remarks comparing Obama’s successes to the putative ones of Jesse Jackson). A little lacking in, oh, what is it? Oh yes -- integrity.
So, I’m feeling a bit Obamalicious. Let’s see if my fellow California voters back me up.
Yep, even in California, I like Obama’s chances. He doesn’t have to win all of the Latino vote – just pick off enough and continue to do as well with independents and black voters such that there will still be a Democratic primary to speak of after today.
I’ve got my Obama lawn sign up – no one stole it yet – and I’m still reeling from the unprecedented turnout of African American women who made up thirty-five percent of the voters in the South Carolina Democratic primary, where eighty-one percent of the black vote went to Obama.
And I’m still in awe of the Obamaudacity of the young voters who continue to turn out, do phone banking, and make their hope tangible. I applaud you. You’re the reason why I decided to support Obama in the first place.
As I discussed with BMNB, I don’t think Hillary gets how her words and actions play out. This is the year of integrity and intelligence, and, IMHO, candidates who don’t have both won’t make it. I’m not a Southerner, but I lived there long enough to know that Hillary’s abrupt departure from South Carolina – before the polls closed and without even making a public speech there to thank supporters – probably wasn’t received well. Her departure was the functional equivalent of saying, “NEXT!,” as if South Carolina didn’t matter. Well, respect and decorum do matter in the South.
If she wins the nomination, she’ll have to come back through there again. Hmm.
And her remark on Letterman – “In my White House, people will know who wears the pant suit in the family” – hmm, probably not received well in dress country, i.e. the South.
At this point, both Bill and Hill seem a little disingenuous, a little manipulative (what with Bill putting his foot in his mouth in his remarks comparing Obama’s successes to the putative ones of Jesse Jackson). A little lacking in, oh, what is it? Oh yes -- integrity.
So, I’m feeling a bit Obamalicious. Let’s see if my fellow California voters back me up.
Gloria Steinem: I Call BS
I never thought I'd have to choose between my race and my sex in a Democratic primary. I guess I should feel blessed for my choices. But somehow, I don't. And Gloria Steinem didn't help with her January 8 New York Times op-ed entitled, "Women Are Never Front Runners."
Ms. Steinem describes Barack Obama's career trajectory in a hypothetical, changing his sex to female:
The woman in question became a lawyer after some years as a community organizer, married a corporate lawyer and is the mother of two little girls, age 9 and 6. Herself the daughter of a white American mother and a black African father -- in this race-conscious country, she is considered black -- she served as a state legislator for eight years, and became an inspirational voice for national unity.
Be honest: Do you think this is the biography of someone who could be elected to the United States Senate? After less than one term there, do you believe she could be a viable candidate to head the most powerful nation on earth?
If you answered no to either question, you're not alone. Gender is probably the most restricting force in American life, whether the question is who must be in the kitchen or who could be in the White House.
N.Y. Times, January 8, 2008
As they say on the housing bubble blogs, Gloria Steinem, I call BS.
First, Gloria Steinem has not had the "pleasure" of living in America as a woman of color. She will never know the double bind of race (other than white) and gender. From where I'm sitting, she's got no valid point of comparison, IMHO.
Second, let's for a moment consider the qualifications of someone most jurists would have agreed did not have the "biography" to sit on the U.S. Supreme Court: Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.
Unlike her predecessor in the glass ceiling shattering department, Justice Thurgood Marshall, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor didn't have the federal appellate court experience now considered required to even dream about sitting on the U.S. Supreme Court. (Note: I think the last law professor appointed to the court was Justice Felix Frankfurter, and I can't think of the last Justice appointed from a state supreme court). Not only that, she had spent the majority of her career as a jurist in an elected judge position -- four years with the Maricopa County Court -- followed by a two-year stint on the Arizona Court of Appeals. Not the Arizona Supreme Court, mind you; the Arizona Court of Appeals, Arizona's intermediate appellate court.
In short, President Reagan had to look long and hard to find a Republican woman like O'Connor. And he obviously had to overlook her lack of generally expected experience. Sure, Justice Marshall preceded her on the court, and well he should have: He had served on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit and as Solicitor General, not to mention his numerous arguments before the U.S. Supreme Court on behalf of the NAACP, including Brown v. Board of Education. I would suspect that he knew more about constitutional law when he took the bench than O'Connor did when she took the bench.
In fact, one might argue that -- dare I say it? -- O'Connor might have been less qualified than Justice Clarence Thomas.
Yet and still, despite her "biography," Justice O'Connor staked out and held the center of the court during the Burger and Rehnquist years. When I was in law school, my law school advisor, Professor Martha Minow, described the process of writing a brief for the U.S. Supreme Court back then: For the most part, you were only really writing to persuade O'Connor because you already knew how the rest of the Court would vote.
Yes, I'm aware that being nominated to the U.S. Supreme Court is different than running for and winning the Presidency, but to say that women are never the front-runners? I call BS. White women most certainly are the front-runners. Unlike Geraldine Ferraro, you didn't see Jesse Jackson ever seriously considered for the VP spot on the Democratic ticket. What the Democratic front runners back then wanted to know was, "What Does Jesse Want?," as if he were an annoying child to be dealt with and dispatched to round up black votes for the eventual "real" nominee.
Gloria Steinem continued: If the lawyer described above had been just as charismatic but named, say, Achola Obama instead of Barack Obama, her goose would have been cooked long ago.
Perhaps, but not because of her sex -- because of her race and sex. And this is an experience Gloria Steinem will never, ever know. And since she will never, ever know -- and isn't this the never-ending problem with the mostly white female "feminist" movement? -- perhaps she needs to talk to those of us who do know before lobbing such a half-baked op-ed piece to the N.Y. Times.
Now, if the "lawyer described above" had been just as charismatic but named Sandra Day O'Connor, she might have had an excellent shot at being appointed to the U.S. Supreme Court.
And who knows? Perhaps President Obama will appoint Hillary to the U.S. Supreme Court.
Nah. She doesn't have any experience sitting on a federal appellate court.
Ms. Steinem describes Barack Obama's career trajectory in a hypothetical, changing his sex to female:
The woman in question became a lawyer after some years as a community organizer, married a corporate lawyer and is the mother of two little girls, age 9 and 6. Herself the daughter of a white American mother and a black African father -- in this race-conscious country, she is considered black -- she served as a state legislator for eight years, and became an inspirational voice for national unity.
Be honest: Do you think this is the biography of someone who could be elected to the United States Senate? After less than one term there, do you believe she could be a viable candidate to head the most powerful nation on earth?
If you answered no to either question, you're not alone. Gender is probably the most restricting force in American life, whether the question is who must be in the kitchen or who could be in the White House.
N.Y. Times, January 8, 2008
As they say on the housing bubble blogs, Gloria Steinem, I call BS.
First, Gloria Steinem has not had the "pleasure" of living in America as a woman of color. She will never know the double bind of race (other than white) and gender. From where I'm sitting, she's got no valid point of comparison, IMHO.
Second, let's for a moment consider the qualifications of someone most jurists would have agreed did not have the "biography" to sit on the U.S. Supreme Court: Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.
Unlike her predecessor in the glass ceiling shattering department, Justice Thurgood Marshall, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor didn't have the federal appellate court experience now considered required to even dream about sitting on the U.S. Supreme Court. (Note: I think the last law professor appointed to the court was Justice Felix Frankfurter, and I can't think of the last Justice appointed from a state supreme court). Not only that, she had spent the majority of her career as a jurist in an elected judge position -- four years with the Maricopa County Court -- followed by a two-year stint on the Arizona Court of Appeals. Not the Arizona Supreme Court, mind you; the Arizona Court of Appeals, Arizona's intermediate appellate court.
In short, President Reagan had to look long and hard to find a Republican woman like O'Connor. And he obviously had to overlook her lack of generally expected experience. Sure, Justice Marshall preceded her on the court, and well he should have: He had served on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit and as Solicitor General, not to mention his numerous arguments before the U.S. Supreme Court on behalf of the NAACP, including Brown v. Board of Education. I would suspect that he knew more about constitutional law when he took the bench than O'Connor did when she took the bench.
In fact, one might argue that -- dare I say it? -- O'Connor might have been less qualified than Justice Clarence Thomas.
Yet and still, despite her "biography," Justice O'Connor staked out and held the center of the court during the Burger and Rehnquist years. When I was in law school, my law school advisor, Professor Martha Minow, described the process of writing a brief for the U.S. Supreme Court back then: For the most part, you were only really writing to persuade O'Connor because you already knew how the rest of the Court would vote.
Yes, I'm aware that being nominated to the U.S. Supreme Court is different than running for and winning the Presidency, but to say that women are never the front-runners? I call BS. White women most certainly are the front-runners. Unlike Geraldine Ferraro, you didn't see Jesse Jackson ever seriously considered for the VP spot on the Democratic ticket. What the Democratic front runners back then wanted to know was, "What Does Jesse Want?," as if he were an annoying child to be dealt with and dispatched to round up black votes for the eventual "real" nominee.
Gloria Steinem continued: If the lawyer described above had been just as charismatic but named, say, Achola Obama instead of Barack Obama, her goose would have been cooked long ago.
Perhaps, but not because of her sex -- because of her race and sex. And this is an experience Gloria Steinem will never, ever know. And since she will never, ever know -- and isn't this the never-ending problem with the mostly white female "feminist" movement? -- perhaps she needs to talk to those of us who do know before lobbing such a half-baked op-ed piece to the N.Y. Times.
Now, if the "lawyer described above" had been just as charismatic but named Sandra Day O'Connor, she might have had an excellent shot at being appointed to the U.S. Supreme Court.
And who knows? Perhaps President Obama will appoint Hillary to the U.S. Supreme Court.
Nah. She doesn't have any experience sitting on a federal appellate court.
Oh No She Didn't! Now I'm Hotter Than Fish Grease!
"I think they have decided to run a relentlessly negative campaign, and I don’t think anybody who’s watching would deny that . . . . I gather that she’s determined that instead of trying to sell herself on why she would be the best president, she’s trying to convince folks that I wouldn’t be a good one.”
Sen. Barack Obama, N.Y. Times, January 14, 2008
And so it goes -- against my wise counsel (see my January 11 post), Hillary has decided to go negative on Barack Obama. Again. Based on events that happened in the past -- who was most responsible for the gains of the Civil Rights Movement. And she's even got the chief peddler of Black Cultural Porn, former BET President Robert Johnson, joining in the chorus, with a less-than-oblique reference to Obama's drug-using past.
And now, as my friend Sheila in Denver says, I'm hotter than fish grease. (Note: For those of you who lack Southern roots, black Southerners fry catfish in large quantities of peanut oil heated to extremely high temperatures. In fact, peanut oil is the oil of choice for frying fish because it is one of the few oils that can withstand being heated to extremely high temperatures without bursting into flames. Hence the term, "hotter than fish grease." Sheila's family is from Virginia.) What this Democratic primary is turning into is what I perceive to be a generational divide between the older Civil Rights Generation of blacks versus my generation and younger, and, IMHO, Hillary is trying to go negative on Obama to shore up her Civil Rights Generation support. At the risk of speaking out of turn, I know that as far as I'm concerned, enough is enough. I'm tired of the negative campaigning from the Hillary campaign. This little tiff seems to be much ado about nothing, yet another war of words to distract us from the record Hillary ought to be running on -- her own.
And I don't think I'm alone. I'm tired of the whole "politics as Washington bloodsport" approach to political campaigning. I don't care who said what about things in the past -- what I want to know is why each candidate should be President of the United States. Make your own damn case for your own damn candidacy. This time around, you don't get to win by default by trying to detract from and destroy all the other candidates. Not this time around. IMHO, this is a different kind of primary, primarily because of Obama.
Despite the fact that my political jinx status is still in play, now I'm hotter than fish grease and might just have to get involved. I just might have to make another donation to the Obama campaign. And buy an Obama lawn sign. And walk precincts, like I did for Gore and Kerry. I might just have to go all out because I'm tired of the negativity and the lack of fair gamesmanship (gameswomanship?). Enough is enough. I'm hotter than fish grease, and I'm not going to take it anymore.
Sen. Barack Obama, N.Y. Times, January 14, 2008
And so it goes -- against my wise counsel (see my January 11 post), Hillary has decided to go negative on Barack Obama. Again. Based on events that happened in the past -- who was most responsible for the gains of the Civil Rights Movement. And she's even got the chief peddler of Black Cultural Porn, former BET President Robert Johnson, joining in the chorus, with a less-than-oblique reference to Obama's drug-using past.
And now, as my friend Sheila in Denver says, I'm hotter than fish grease. (Note: For those of you who lack Southern roots, black Southerners fry catfish in large quantities of peanut oil heated to extremely high temperatures. In fact, peanut oil is the oil of choice for frying fish because it is one of the few oils that can withstand being heated to extremely high temperatures without bursting into flames. Hence the term, "hotter than fish grease." Sheila's family is from Virginia.) What this Democratic primary is turning into is what I perceive to be a generational divide between the older Civil Rights Generation of blacks versus my generation and younger, and, IMHO, Hillary is trying to go negative on Obama to shore up her Civil Rights Generation support. At the risk of speaking out of turn, I know that as far as I'm concerned, enough is enough. I'm tired of the negative campaigning from the Hillary campaign. This little tiff seems to be much ado about nothing, yet another war of words to distract us from the record Hillary ought to be running on -- her own.
And I don't think I'm alone. I'm tired of the whole "politics as Washington bloodsport" approach to political campaigning. I don't care who said what about things in the past -- what I want to know is why each candidate should be President of the United States. Make your own damn case for your own damn candidacy. This time around, you don't get to win by default by trying to detract from and destroy all the other candidates. Not this time around. IMHO, this is a different kind of primary, primarily because of Obama.
Despite the fact that my political jinx status is still in play, now I'm hotter than fish grease and might just have to get involved. I just might have to make another donation to the Obama campaign. And buy an Obama lawn sign. And walk precincts, like I did for Gore and Kerry. I might just have to go all out because I'm tired of the negativity and the lack of fair gamesmanship (gameswomanship?). Enough is enough. I'm hotter than fish grease, and I'm not going to take it anymore.
The Rise and Fall of the Moman
Moman: A woman who believes she can succeed in competing against men by acting more masculine than men.
I think Hillary Clinton’s victory in New Hampshire is due in large part to one factor: For a brief moment, she stopped being a moman.
Now, I don’t have anything against strong women. I am one. But I also believe that women experience the world differently, and to ignore those differences in service of the idea that a woman has to be more masculine than a man to succeed is a disservice to women. When Hillary allegedly “found her voice,” I would suppose it was more feminine this time around.
Not girly, but feminine.
We all experienced the momen of the ‘80s, with their uptight suits with the padded shoulders and blouses buttoned up to their chins. With their newly minted degrees, they were determined to out-man men to succeed in corporate America – putting off childbearing and demeaning those to whom family and children were important as not committed to women’s equality; working more hours than men, no matter the cost to their family relationships and health; walking and talking like them. Momen dictated to the rest of the female sex what success was going to look like, and oddly enough, it looked just like the flawed American white male paradigm. The quintessential moman is Margaret Thatcher, and I don’t think anyone in American wants a Thatcher clone.
The '80's momen discovered that, no matter how much they tried to imitate men, they would never be accepted as equals to men. Too bad they didn’t figure this out before their fertility waned. It took until the ‘90’s for momen to wake up and say: I’m going to flip the script. I’m going to succeed on my own terms without playing like a man. I’m going to succeed as a woman, not a woman imitating a man.
The problem with Hillary coming into New Hampshire, IMHO, was that she had morphed into a quintessential moman – talking about the issues in strident, nasal-inflected tones, going negative on Obama and Edwards when she really needed to be more like second-term Bill Clinton, “feeling our pain” in words that didn’t sound stilted and scripted.
Well, I think she broke through her moman shell with her display of emotion. And it resonated. And women flocked back to her. If she’s going to win the nomination, it will be because of 40-70 year-old old-guard feminists who, pardon the expression, have the balls to stand up to the nation and say: We got next. It’s our time. But in order for Hillary to keep these women on her side, she has to campaign like a woman, with the promise that she will govern like a woman. The moman thing just wasn’t working. Hell, if we wanted another guy in the White House, not only is this year’s field of male Democratic candidates interesting enough, but they're eye candy, too. And they don’t have any problem disassociating themselves from the Iraq War because, unlike a moman, they’re not afraid to admit that they were wrong on the issue in the first place.
So, memo to Hillary: Stop with the moman crap. Run like the woman you are. Give voters your vision of why a woman-governed U.S. might be different and better and more inclusive. Then, just then, you might just win this thing.
I think Hillary Clinton’s victory in New Hampshire is due in large part to one factor: For a brief moment, she stopped being a moman.
Now, I don’t have anything against strong women. I am one. But I also believe that women experience the world differently, and to ignore those differences in service of the idea that a woman has to be more masculine than a man to succeed is a disservice to women. When Hillary allegedly “found her voice,” I would suppose it was more feminine this time around.
Not girly, but feminine.
We all experienced the momen of the ‘80s, with their uptight suits with the padded shoulders and blouses buttoned up to their chins. With their newly minted degrees, they were determined to out-man men to succeed in corporate America – putting off childbearing and demeaning those to whom family and children were important as not committed to women’s equality; working more hours than men, no matter the cost to their family relationships and health; walking and talking like them. Momen dictated to the rest of the female sex what success was going to look like, and oddly enough, it looked just like the flawed American white male paradigm. The quintessential moman is Margaret Thatcher, and I don’t think anyone in American wants a Thatcher clone.
The '80's momen discovered that, no matter how much they tried to imitate men, they would never be accepted as equals to men. Too bad they didn’t figure this out before their fertility waned. It took until the ‘90’s for momen to wake up and say: I’m going to flip the script. I’m going to succeed on my own terms without playing like a man. I’m going to succeed as a woman, not a woman imitating a man.
The problem with Hillary coming into New Hampshire, IMHO, was that she had morphed into a quintessential moman – talking about the issues in strident, nasal-inflected tones, going negative on Obama and Edwards when she really needed to be more like second-term Bill Clinton, “feeling our pain” in words that didn’t sound stilted and scripted.
Well, I think she broke through her moman shell with her display of emotion. And it resonated. And women flocked back to her. If she’s going to win the nomination, it will be because of 40-70 year-old old-guard feminists who, pardon the expression, have the balls to stand up to the nation and say: We got next. It’s our time. But in order for Hillary to keep these women on her side, she has to campaign like a woman, with the promise that she will govern like a woman. The moman thing just wasn’t working. Hell, if we wanted another guy in the White House, not only is this year’s field of male Democratic candidates interesting enough, but they're eye candy, too. And they don’t have any problem disassociating themselves from the Iraq War because, unlike a moman, they’re not afraid to admit that they were wrong on the issue in the first place.
So, memo to Hillary: Stop with the moman crap. Run like the woman you are. Give voters your vision of why a woman-governed U.S. might be different and better and more inclusive. Then, just then, you might just win this thing.
Obama, Hillary Got Barack'd! Obamaudacity On The Move
"Obama, he Barack'd my world!"
Grace Adler, commenting on her "dream" about Barack Obama, Will and Grace
Well, it looks like 1) I might not be the political jinx I thought I was, and 2) Hillary Clinton got Barack'd in Iowa, and not in the same way Grace Adler from Will and Grace describes her "dream" experience with Obama. Clinton didn't even tie or come in second; she came up a bit short behind Edwards.
Looks like we have a real primary going on, not some insipid coronation.
And, as I referenced in my previous Obamadacity post, it was, in large part, due to young voters turning out, many for the first time.
I couldn't be more proud.
That so many young voters -- most of them college students, I understand -- turned out in bone-chilling weather to send a statement not only to the country but to the Democratic Party Establishment that, this time around, they would not be denied, makes me proud.
Proud that perhaps young people are taking their country back.
To all those young voters in Iowa, and those young voters who have yet to but intend to vote, I applaud and salute you. Ella Baker, Fannie Lou Hamer, Kwame Toure (Stokely Carmichael) and Dr. King would applaud you and salute you were they alive. They knew that the brightest and most fervent hope for an American that lives up to its principles of freedom and democracy lies with our young people.
And I love that, in a state that is 95% white, Obama was judged by the content of his character, not the color of his skin. If he keeps this up, he might not even need the African American vote -- so take note, those of my brothers and sisters who said that he's not "black enough." He might not have to be, whatever that is.
To those young voters in Iowa, I say, Barack on with your bad selves!
Obamaudacity -- coming to a Democratic Primary near you!
Grace Adler, commenting on her "dream" about Barack Obama, Will and Grace
Well, it looks like 1) I might not be the political jinx I thought I was, and 2) Hillary Clinton got Barack'd in Iowa, and not in the same way Grace Adler from Will and Grace describes her "dream" experience with Obama. Clinton didn't even tie or come in second; she came up a bit short behind Edwards.
Looks like we have a real primary going on, not some insipid coronation.
And, as I referenced in my previous Obamadacity post, it was, in large part, due to young voters turning out, many for the first time.
I couldn't be more proud.
That so many young voters -- most of them college students, I understand -- turned out in bone-chilling weather to send a statement not only to the country but to the Democratic Party Establishment that, this time around, they would not be denied, makes me proud.
Proud that perhaps young people are taking their country back.
To all those young voters in Iowa, and those young voters who have yet to but intend to vote, I applaud and salute you. Ella Baker, Fannie Lou Hamer, Kwame Toure (Stokely Carmichael) and Dr. King would applaud you and salute you were they alive. They knew that the brightest and most fervent hope for an American that lives up to its principles of freedom and democracy lies with our young people.
And I love that, in a state that is 95% white, Obama was judged by the content of his character, not the color of his skin. If he keeps this up, he might not even need the African American vote -- so take note, those of my brothers and sisters who said that he's not "black enough." He might not have to be, whatever that is.
To those young voters in Iowa, I say, Barack on with your bad selves!
Obamaudacity -- coming to a Democratic Primary near you!
If Obama Loses, It's My Fault. No, Really.
If Obama loses in Iowa today, you have no one to blame but me. All me, all the time. Me, Me, Me.
Why?
Because I’m a political jinx. No, really, I am. And I can prove it.
Every political candidate whose campaign I have made a contribution to has lost. Let’s see:
Al Gore, 2000: Made a political contribution, walked precincts, even put a lawn sign on my sister’s lawn against her will. Lost. Well, at least he lost in the Electoral College, which, to me, is obsolete. But I digress.
John Kerry, 2004: Made a political contribution and walked precincts. Lost to a candidate who had already demonstrated himself to be inept and incompetent.
Harold Ford, Jr., 2006. Couldn’t even walk precincts for him since he’s from Tennessee. Of all the African Americans who were running for the U.S. Senate in 2006, he was the only one whose campaign I contributed to. Trust me, I had inside knowledge. I used to live in North Mississippi which, many would argue, is really south Memphis. That meant that, on the weekends, I pretty much lived in Memphis (and if you ever get a chance to go, do check out the ducks at the Peabody Hotel, Memphis in May, and the Pottery Barn outlet). I couldn’t imagine that this son of a seasoned (but somewhat scandalized) Tennessee African American political family wouldn’t be elected to the U.S. Senate. Southerners don’t seem to mind political scandal, to wit: Governor Bill Clinton.
But Ford lost.
And what do all these candidates have in common?
I made a political contribution to their campaigns.
So, with the knowledge that I am a political jinx, I held out on making a contribution to the Obama campaign. Even though I signed up on the Obama website and had received many entreaties to give, I didn’t. You have no idea what a political jinx I am, I thought to myself as I read these pleas from the Obama campaign. Because if you did, you’d be asking me to make a political contribution to Hillary.
Even some of my family members have asked me to make political contributions to politicians they wanted to see lose, knowing the full power of my jinx. Since I didn’t want to be listed as a contributor to any of those folks, I declined.
But, like a moth to a flame, I was drawn in by the December 31st request from no other than Michelle Obama – or at least someone who sent an e-mail using her name. Mrs. Obama told me that if I gave a minimum contribution of $25.00 before midnight, December 31st, my contribution would be matched by another contributor in the U.S.
That’s like a 2 for 1 sale at Macy’s. That’s even better than the BOGO sales at Payless Shoes. (Yes, I shop at Payless Shoes. Get over it.)
Like the cheap consumer that I am, I was drawn in for what amounted to a sale price for my political contribution. And as soon as I clicked on all the boxes stating that I wasn’t affiliated with any political PAC, that I was making the contribution on my own and not on behalf of anyone else, yada, yada, yada, a box popped up informing me that my contribution was going to be matched by Donna W. of Bethesda, Maryland, and would I like to send a personal message to her?
Indeed I would. Indeed I did. Not only did I effectively double my contribution, but I got the pleasure of human connection with a fellow Obama supporter from the other side of the country. It wasn’t until I clicked the “send” button, flinging my personal message to Donna W. in Bethesda into the ether, that I realized just what I had done.
I doomed Obama’s candidacy. All by my lonesome. I knew I was a jinx. I should have gnawed off my fingertips rather than make a political contribution, online no less such that I couldn’t cancel a check, to someone I actually wanted to see succeed.
So, if he loses, you have no one to blame but me.
Now, where’s my checkbook? Might as well make a contribution to Mitt Romney . . . .
Why?
Because I’m a political jinx. No, really, I am. And I can prove it.
Every political candidate whose campaign I have made a contribution to has lost. Let’s see:
Al Gore, 2000: Made a political contribution, walked precincts, even put a lawn sign on my sister’s lawn against her will. Lost. Well, at least he lost in the Electoral College, which, to me, is obsolete. But I digress.
John Kerry, 2004: Made a political contribution and walked precincts. Lost to a candidate who had already demonstrated himself to be inept and incompetent.
Harold Ford, Jr., 2006. Couldn’t even walk precincts for him since he’s from Tennessee. Of all the African Americans who were running for the U.S. Senate in 2006, he was the only one whose campaign I contributed to. Trust me, I had inside knowledge. I used to live in North Mississippi which, many would argue, is really south Memphis. That meant that, on the weekends, I pretty much lived in Memphis (and if you ever get a chance to go, do check out the ducks at the Peabody Hotel, Memphis in May, and the Pottery Barn outlet). I couldn’t imagine that this son of a seasoned (but somewhat scandalized) Tennessee African American political family wouldn’t be elected to the U.S. Senate. Southerners don’t seem to mind political scandal, to wit: Governor Bill Clinton.
But Ford lost.
And what do all these candidates have in common?
I made a political contribution to their campaigns.
So, with the knowledge that I am a political jinx, I held out on making a contribution to the Obama campaign. Even though I signed up on the Obama website and had received many entreaties to give, I didn’t. You have no idea what a political jinx I am, I thought to myself as I read these pleas from the Obama campaign. Because if you did, you’d be asking me to make a political contribution to Hillary.
Even some of my family members have asked me to make political contributions to politicians they wanted to see lose, knowing the full power of my jinx. Since I didn’t want to be listed as a contributor to any of those folks, I declined.
But, like a moth to a flame, I was drawn in by the December 31st request from no other than Michelle Obama – or at least someone who sent an e-mail using her name. Mrs. Obama told me that if I gave a minimum contribution of $25.00 before midnight, December 31st, my contribution would be matched by another contributor in the U.S.
That’s like a 2 for 1 sale at Macy’s. That’s even better than the BOGO sales at Payless Shoes. (Yes, I shop at Payless Shoes. Get over it.)
Like the cheap consumer that I am, I was drawn in for what amounted to a sale price for my political contribution. And as soon as I clicked on all the boxes stating that I wasn’t affiliated with any political PAC, that I was making the contribution on my own and not on behalf of anyone else, yada, yada, yada, a box popped up informing me that my contribution was going to be matched by Donna W. of Bethesda, Maryland, and would I like to send a personal message to her?
Indeed I would. Indeed I did. Not only did I effectively double my contribution, but I got the pleasure of human connection with a fellow Obama supporter from the other side of the country. It wasn’t until I clicked the “send” button, flinging my personal message to Donna W. in Bethesda into the ether, that I realized just what I had done.
I doomed Obama’s candidacy. All by my lonesome. I knew I was a jinx. I should have gnawed off my fingertips rather than make a political contribution, online no less such that I couldn’t cancel a check, to someone I actually wanted to see succeed.
So, if he loses, you have no one to blame but me.
Now, where’s my checkbook? Might as well make a contribution to Mitt Romney . . . .
Obamaudacity
Obamaudacity: The possibly irrationally exuberant belief that Barack Obama's candidacy will energize young voters, sweeping him into the White House and causing Generations X and Y to take ownership of their country.
Yes, I've been on the fence for a long time regarding what has now become the Obama/Clinton /Edwards race, partly because none of them was my first choice. Long before his movie won an Academcy Award and he shared a Nobel Prize, I had hoped that Al Gore would take all his newfound populist energy and fame and make a final run at the White House. It was not to be, but I held out hope.
But now we're getting down to the wire, and I feel like I have to choose. And, given my choices, I've come down with a mild case of Obamaudacity, for a variety of reasons.
First, I'm not a Hillary hater, but I can kinda understand those who are. I would love to see a woman in the White House as someone other than the First Lady, but I'm not certain whether Hillary is that woman. I don't think the Hillary folks truly recognize how much of the African American community's fondness for Bill is manifested as grace toward Hillary. And, as much as Bill Clinton did, most likely with Hillary's help, to increase the number of African American federal judges and to appoint African Americans to his cabinet, I'm still smarting over the Clintons' treatment of Lani Guinier. Remember her? The nominee for head of the Civil Rights Division of the Department of Justice? I hated the way she was made out to be some "quota queen." Trust me, I had to read some of her academic writings in law school, and she wasn't nearly as radical as she was made out to be. What I hated more was that the Clintons didn't defend her and she wasn't allowed to defend herself. But God and Kharma worked it all out -- she made history as the first African American woman tenured professor at Harvard Law School. But it still left an image of the Clintons in my mind as a couple that turns tail on their friends at the whiff of controversy or confrontation.
The other reason I'm not feeling Hillary is that her candidacy reminds me of the same old tired political tactics that the candidates use first to inflict harm on their party brethren and then to inflict harm on the other party's candidate. Her swipes at Barack Obama's inexperience ring hollow for me. First, I love that Obama has grassroots political experience from actually working to organize everyday people to vote. Second, her backhanded remark to the effect that spending part of one's childhood in a foreign country doesn't count as foreign policy experience lends itself to some irony and doesn't exactly ring true. If that is indeed the case, then sleeping with the president doesn't equate to foreign policy experience, either; otherwise, Monica Lewinsky would be more than qualified to be Secretary of State. She did, after all, overhear President Clinton talking to Arafat while she was in flagrante fellatio.
And, as someone who actually did live in a foreign country, albeit for a short time during college, I would beg to differ with her assessment. I studied in Spain as a college student during the Reagan years, when the dollar was at an all time high. I learned first hand the effect of U.S. monetary and foreign policy on other nations. For instance, I never understood why, when I went to the bank to change my dollars into pesetas, that I was treated with disdain. One of my Spanish classmates explained it to me curtly: "Don't you get it? Oil is bought in dollars. It's winter, and the dollar is high compared to the peseta. That means that a lot of poor people in this country won't be able to afford to heat their homes. And you come walking in the bank, exchanging dollars like they're nothing. Of course they hate you."
Talk about foreign/economic policy 101. If Obama gained even a scintilla of an other-worldly perspective on the effects of U.S. foreign and economic policy on other countries, or even an understanding of how non-Americans regard this nation, he will have brought far more of worth into the White House than its current occupant. Plus, if I haven't learned anything else from the likes of Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld, I've learned this: Don't confuse experience with wisdom.
Finally, I've got Obamaudacity because of my experience teaching young people. When I taught law students, the one thing I noticed was that very few of the black law students I met were registered Democrats. Those who were registered to vote at all were primarily Independents. They didn't feel any Roosevelt/Kennedy/Clinton loyalty to the Democratic party. And they were largely apathetic, suffering from "political party fatigue." Yet, it is this very group that has the most to lose if they are not politically energized and engaged. They're Gen X and Gen Y, so that means they're going to get the sloppy seconds of the Baby Boom generation -- sloppy environment, sloppy Social Security, sloppy economy, sloppy deficit, sloppy never-ending war in Iraq, sloppy immigration policy, sloppy everything. Basically, we Baby Boomers are going to leave these young folks to clean up our mess. They might as well get started now and have a say in who is going to help them do it. And if Obama is their choice, then, as someone in the tail end of the Baby Boom generation, I want to honor their choice. To them, I imagine, he represents a clean slate unsullied by past scandals, support for the war in Iraq, and the same recycled political hacks from both parties.
I know Baby Boomers won't let go of Rolling Stones concerts -- hell, some of us would still be following the Grateful Dead if Jerry Garcia were alive -- as well as smoking doobies, endless self-improvement, and flagrant conspicuous consumption. But maybe, just maybe, we need to cede to the choices of the generations behind us. Maybe we need a case of Obamaudacity.
Yes, I've been on the fence for a long time regarding what has now become the Obama/Clinton /Edwards race, partly because none of them was my first choice. Long before his movie won an Academcy Award and he shared a Nobel Prize, I had hoped that Al Gore would take all his newfound populist energy and fame and make a final run at the White House. It was not to be, but I held out hope.
But now we're getting down to the wire, and I feel like I have to choose. And, given my choices, I've come down with a mild case of Obamaudacity, for a variety of reasons.
First, I'm not a Hillary hater, but I can kinda understand those who are. I would love to see a woman in the White House as someone other than the First Lady, but I'm not certain whether Hillary is that woman. I don't think the Hillary folks truly recognize how much of the African American community's fondness for Bill is manifested as grace toward Hillary. And, as much as Bill Clinton did, most likely with Hillary's help, to increase the number of African American federal judges and to appoint African Americans to his cabinet, I'm still smarting over the Clintons' treatment of Lani Guinier. Remember her? The nominee for head of the Civil Rights Division of the Department of Justice? I hated the way she was made out to be some "quota queen." Trust me, I had to read some of her academic writings in law school, and she wasn't nearly as radical as she was made out to be. What I hated more was that the Clintons didn't defend her and she wasn't allowed to defend herself. But God and Kharma worked it all out -- she made history as the first African American woman tenured professor at Harvard Law School. But it still left an image of the Clintons in my mind as a couple that turns tail on their friends at the whiff of controversy or confrontation.
The other reason I'm not feeling Hillary is that her candidacy reminds me of the same old tired political tactics that the candidates use first to inflict harm on their party brethren and then to inflict harm on the other party's candidate. Her swipes at Barack Obama's inexperience ring hollow for me. First, I love that Obama has grassroots political experience from actually working to organize everyday people to vote. Second, her backhanded remark to the effect that spending part of one's childhood in a foreign country doesn't count as foreign policy experience lends itself to some irony and doesn't exactly ring true. If that is indeed the case, then sleeping with the president doesn't equate to foreign policy experience, either; otherwise, Monica Lewinsky would be more than qualified to be Secretary of State. She did, after all, overhear President Clinton talking to Arafat while she was in flagrante fellatio.
And, as someone who actually did live in a foreign country, albeit for a short time during college, I would beg to differ with her assessment. I studied in Spain as a college student during the Reagan years, when the dollar was at an all time high. I learned first hand the effect of U.S. monetary and foreign policy on other nations. For instance, I never understood why, when I went to the bank to change my dollars into pesetas, that I was treated with disdain. One of my Spanish classmates explained it to me curtly: "Don't you get it? Oil is bought in dollars. It's winter, and the dollar is high compared to the peseta. That means that a lot of poor people in this country won't be able to afford to heat their homes. And you come walking in the bank, exchanging dollars like they're nothing. Of course they hate you."
Talk about foreign/economic policy 101. If Obama gained even a scintilla of an other-worldly perspective on the effects of U.S. foreign and economic policy on other countries, or even an understanding of how non-Americans regard this nation, he will have brought far more of worth into the White House than its current occupant. Plus, if I haven't learned anything else from the likes of Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld, I've learned this: Don't confuse experience with wisdom.
Finally, I've got Obamaudacity because of my experience teaching young people. When I taught law students, the one thing I noticed was that very few of the black law students I met were registered Democrats. Those who were registered to vote at all were primarily Independents. They didn't feel any Roosevelt/Kennedy/Clinton loyalty to the Democratic party. And they were largely apathetic, suffering from "political party fatigue." Yet, it is this very group that has the most to lose if they are not politically energized and engaged. They're Gen X and Gen Y, so that means they're going to get the sloppy seconds of the Baby Boom generation -- sloppy environment, sloppy Social Security, sloppy economy, sloppy deficit, sloppy never-ending war in Iraq, sloppy immigration policy, sloppy everything. Basically, we Baby Boomers are going to leave these young folks to clean up our mess. They might as well get started now and have a say in who is going to help them do it. And if Obama is their choice, then, as someone in the tail end of the Baby Boom generation, I want to honor their choice. To them, I imagine, he represents a clean slate unsullied by past scandals, support for the war in Iraq, and the same recycled political hacks from both parties.
I know Baby Boomers won't let go of Rolling Stones concerts -- hell, some of us would still be following the Grateful Dead if Jerry Garcia were alive -- as well as smoking doobies, endless self-improvement, and flagrant conspicuous consumption. But maybe, just maybe, we need to cede to the choices of the generations behind us. Maybe we need a case of Obamaudacity.
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