The Tuesday After

I think I need to go on record that I hate TV news.  Yet I can't help myself.  What do I do when I'm not working too much and not blogging (and shamefully absorbed in Facebook)?  I'm totally sucked into the the Primary Season news coverage, of the misleading, reactionary, and patently made-up variety.

When the news monkeys are not continually harping on non-events, like whether Bill Clinton is speaking in racist code, they're busily ignoring other important happenings like how Hillary Clinton is seeking to change the rules in the middle of the game to better her own chances of winning the Democratic nomination. 

But what irked me the most, and is now giving me great pleasure, is the assertion that it all ends on Super Duper Tuesday Primary Election Blowout.  February 12 was looking like a farce until the race began to tighten and Barak Obama started to pick up key states.  With its ultra-egalitarian approach to delegate appropriations, and these mysterious Super Delegates holding a huge chunk of power, it's looking more and more like the Democratic Party may have to wait until the convention to finally crown its king or queen.

Since the primary gods probably won't shine their beam of light on the nominee on February 5th, those of us in Virginia and Maryland might actually get a say.  And finally some political ads have started running here in George Washington's home town.  Obama and McCain have so far taken the high road, but I'm still counting on Romney to ass it up and take it down a notch. 

I have been waffling for awhile over who I will vote for.  I love the Clintons.  Every since Bill, Al, Hill and Tipper stumped through New Orleans ranting about ending trickledown economics, I have been a fan.  I was 18 and bright-eyed.  Here was this young guy speaking a bit more like one of us.  They were light on experience (save for Al), but full of promise. 

And they delivered.  Within just 4 years of graduating college, I had tripled my salary and bought a condo inside the beltway.  With my extra "fun money" I dabbled in a touring rock band. I went on trips, and had a nice car.  These were the halcyon days, and I love 'em for it.

So, on paper I'm keen for a return to Clintonian prosperity.  They've dug us out of the shit hole before, so I have no doubt they can do it again.  I've never been a Hillary nay-sayer, but I'm aware of her stigma.  My dad could go on for hours about her commie pinko ways.  Still, the idea of a woman making a real go of it is energizing.  As B- prepares for a networking dinner at the Cosmos Club tonight, I'm reminded of how much of Washington is still mostly a boys club.  The DC landmark only opened its doors to women in 1988. 
 
Then again, Barak Obama has a very potent allure.  He's idealistic in the same way that Bill Clinton was in 1992.  Sadly, I'm not the "youth" vote anymore, but I'm no baby boomer.  I get it, and am very attracted to Barak's message of hope.  We definitely need a bit of that in the face of a crushingly bleak outlook not only for our country, but for the world.

But I can't help but think that he might be just a bit naive, if not a lot.  The Clinton's are well accustomed to the mud-slinging and roadblocking.  The worst Obama's been dealt so far are a few childish jabs at his name, and it's certainly not the first time in his life he's taken shit for having a funny name.  I don't think he'll renege on his promises.  I'm just worried he doesn't know what he's in for.  And sometimes I think we need a bully on our side to turn Washington around.  Hillary seems more up for that role.

What is really pushing me towards Obama lately is the fact that the Clintons are playing beneath themselves.  Bill's running around like a crazy ole coot, and Hillary's pretending not to notice.  But this thing with the Florida delegates is really not sitting well with me. She's trying to change the rules mid-game because it suits her outcome. 

This is low, desperate, and smacks of sore loser.  Next thing you know she'll run independent with Nader.  And by the way, now's a good time to tell that guy to eff off, and keep his nose out of it.