washington d.c. (D-emocratic C-onstipation)

Sorry for the above sarcasm. Yet, no matter how sarcastic I try to remain about our political system, I am a complete patriot at heart and a geek to boot. Don't let that get around though.

I am currently in Washington D.C. And, for the first time. I am so excited that I cried while the plane was landing at Dulles. Partly because the fog was so thick I was unable to see the capitol, but mostly because I was flying into Washington D.C.

"People shape buildings, then buildings shape people." -Winston Churchill

I intend to see the Lincoln Memorial and then turn on it's steps to look out over the much photographed reflecting pool and the phallic Washington Monument. I'll stand on those same steps where so many historical figures have stood, addressing thousands to millions in hopes to change the course of history and make our country what we all wish it to be. I'll cry. No doubt.

I will go to the Mall and be overwhelmed at the options, the history available to me, and the limited time I have to take it in. I'll probably whine and feel sorry for myself at that point. However, I WILL go to the Smithsonian Museum because everyone SHOULD go to the Smithsonian.

We also want to stand on the grass and gaze upon the iconic likes of the White House and the Pentagon. I want to take our picture on the steps of the Capitol Building. I hope to see the President, and even though I have issues with the man himself my heart will most certainly swell with national pride -which still surprises me and renders me completely patriotic and weak in the knees- I will most likely cry again, and I'll feel very happy to be an American. I will wax nostalgic once more over the time I saw President Clinton dining with Harrison Ford at a small restaurant in Jackson Hole, Montana.

That beautiful evening, at the foot of the Teton Mountains, a couple handfuls of us gazed up in rapt awe from a small courtyard below the restaurant asking one another in whispers, "Do you see him yet?" Strange how such a figure can have an awe inspiring affect on a group of Americans from all over the country, of all ages, backgrounds and beliefs. We all felt as one. Talking to one another like good friends. Giggling over the fact that we couldn't -not one of us- take our eyes away from the spot where we knew we would see the President at any moment, once the meal was finished and the Presidential Couple would say their goodbyes to Harrison. Clinton's presence was indeed confirmed when the Secret Service came through our little crowd and without asking permission, rifled through our bags and pockets looking for weapons and whatever else the Secret Service looks for. We were all silenced. Strangely, I didn't feel a bit violated by the nearly intimate nature of the agent's searching of me. In fact, I felt truly glad. Glad to have him search me and everyone around me so that MY President would be protected and safe. So that my country wouldn't be plunged into a time of chaos and grief.

I will feel the same today, I'm sure, if I have the pleasure of being groped by a Secret Service Agent. By the way, they do wear nice suits and shoes that you would lead you to believe there's no way they could out run a very bad person with bad intentions. They are serious, completely unattached, unsmiling, focused, and not visibly amused when you say things like, "Wow, you really do wear those wire thingies in your ears." Not that I said that.

So, I'm excited to be here in the Capitol of our country, despite the fact that my national pride took a hit on our trip out here. My experience rendered me disconcerted, unpatriotic, and caused me to wonder if capitalism is what Lenin always believed it to be (basically, in the long term, not very beneficial to the general population). I am now fully convinced that the United States is going the direction of the Roman empire. There are serious customer service problems afoot when you sit in an airplane seat and your face is barely 12 inches from the seat in front of you, and you can't even cross your legs or put your seat back to relax (without shoving the persons laptop into their chest and spilling their $5 three ounce drink). It didn't used to be like that. Really! Serious decline of cultural priorities are at play.

That's not all! My bank is owned by Nazi's. I'm sorry, but I remember a time when my money was my money and not theirs to do with what they please. HELLO! When I put my money in a bank, if I am remembering this accurately, they actually hold the money for safekeeping and give it to you any time you request that you would like to use it. Such as when you travel long distances and need lots of cash just in case unpredictable things occur (which they often do when you are away). Only NOW the state of our economy has basically caused our financial institutions to forget what their original purpose is. To safeguard our money (they do that still, kind of) so that we can access it when needed (that's the part they forgot).

Anyway, I'm now caught up in my nostalgic feelings of national pride. My broad sweeping disappointment in the state of our Capitalistic system, and in Northwest airlines and Washington Mutual in particular, are shelved for the moment. Right now I sit in Virginia, a stone's throw away from the Capitol building with its amazing story of change and hope, and the Mall which houses strange and wonderful items we learn about in grade school and only hope to set our eyes on.

Maybe I'll see the President. But likely, I may just brush by someone who, unbeknownst to me, is hard at work trying to change something that could influence my life dramatically. They might even sit in the seat behind me on my flight back and I might shove their laptop into their chest whilst they compose a proposed ammendment to the laws concerning equality and marriage in our country. Maybe.

just musing folks

It took us a mere 2 years to accomplish what the Canadian government and voters did in only 2 MONTHS! Anyway, congratulations and condolences are in order…and in some cases, simultaneously. None-the-less, I think that what I have on my mind is important.

It’s clear we all have pretty strong feelings about this President-Elect. Even if it is merely irritation over the process, electoral votes, or media hype.

Earlier this week I was listening to a young black man at my church here in Spokane. He said he was at a Bible study on Tuesday night when Senator McCain gave his concession speech and Obama in turn accepted his nomination. There were both people who were disappointed and people who were happy. He had sat back watching all of these responses, while inside he thought, “Do you have any idea what this means for a black man?” He was so excited he just wanted to jump up and down! When was the last time you felt that joyous about anything? He then said to me, “I never thought I would see Martin Luther King’s dream actually come true in my lifetime.”

Me too. I’m overwhelmed by it. Only, I really can’t know what it might feel like as a black man.

I’m actually in a state of disbelief. Shock maybe. I don’t generally announce and extrapolate on my political leanings. I especially keep my voting history to myself. An American right regarding nondisclosure. However, I want to make an exception in this case and come out. I was a delegate for Senator Obama in Whatcom County. Since the first day I registered to vote I’ve never been directly involved in the activities of any particular party during an election season. Usually the most involved I become, is in bipartisan activities such as working the polls.

Delegates gathered for the first caucus way back in Winter ’07. During the first caucus –where strong supporters of one candidate try to convince others to support their candidate– it was at the 11th hour, 59 minutes, and 59 seconds when I decided to hop over to support Obama. Then I became a delegate.

Although I liked him and what he was all about, I was very unsure if he had a wide enough margin of chance to make it as the Democratic candidate over Senator Clinton. Sadly, I really didn’t believe in my heart of hearts this country could actually pull its head out of its butt long enough to pull him, a black man after all, into the presidency much “less” a woman. But it happened. It is a good sign.

Even though I moved up through three Democrat caucuses in support of Senator Obama, I still can’t believe we actually did it. Indira Ghandi, MLK, a few others, and Benazir Bhutto all made audible sighs of relief from their graves, “It’s about time”. I think I heard it too.

Nelson Mandela, former political prisoner and current President of South Africa, sent Obama a letter, saying, “Your victory has demonstrated that no person anywhere in the world should not dare to dream of wanting to change the world for a better place.” You might even be a black American in the ‘land of the free and the home of the brave’.

I am not alone in my current state of disbelief. There are some interesting reactions and beliefs out there.


Now for the really awkward stuff.

I’ve heard from an uncanny amount of people that they have a… “gut feeling”, “conviction”, or “weird felling”… about our President-Elect. The conviction isn’t a good one either. Dare I say it smacks of Armageddon and the biblical sense of the “end times”? Some of them haven’t really been able to come up with much more than, “It’s just a feeling. I can’t explain it.” If I didn’t actually like and love these many people who’ve expressed this “gut feeling” I’d pass over it with a “there, there,” and a sympathetic pat of my hand on their head. I have had still others I like and love express with equal frequency and passion a gut level belief, even hope, that this president represents a sign of good things coming. Perhaps even an “audacious” hope.

Let me be honest. I really do like almost all the people who have expressed these dissimilar beliefs about our next president. I actually feel okay with those who’ve explained odd and discomforting feelings and beliefs. Maybe I kind of get it. But it makes me really uncomfortable. That’s why I’m telling you, too. Maybe you’ve felt it. Maybe you’ve heard people say it and blew it off with a flip of your hand. Maybe you’re as intrigued as I am because the frequency with which you’ve heard it makes it hard to ignore. Though I do have a mental illness, conspiracy theories are not my thing. So I’m not to the point of pinning newspaper clippings about this to my wall. Yet.

I can’t say it any clearer, these folks –my "informants" for lack of a better term– are not whack jobs! No one I know personally has admitted any discomfort or revealed hate based on his color. That’s just too easy. No, most of these friends and family of mine who have expressed either of these beliefs stated above, are indeed very convinced. But not in an hysterical schizoid (paranoid, conspiracy theorist) manner.

I, however, am of another mind…sort of in the middle somewhere. Indeed, I too feel that knot in the pit of my stomach. It’s a weird feeling and it is uncomfortable. It smacks of big world-sized issues that seem to have parked right in my driveway. I feel incapable of interpreting what is there in my gut. These folks have described a feeling of something bad on the horizon. Me too. But I hear an invitation in that. It is an invitation to be wise. To act justly, to love mercy. To Pray.

One thing is sure, I think many of us must feel like my mom & dad’s generation did before Kennedy, then his brother, and then MLK, were shot dead by very sick people who knew little, if anything, of hope and possibility. I feel hopeful like my mom & dad’s generation must have felt hopeful –about what, none of us can probably accurately define. But there was a lot of hope going around, flagrantly. But I feel hopeful with a little caution, because my hope still remembers Kennedy, King, and Bhutto most recently, and how there are lots of crazy people in the world who listen to fear and literally desire to kill hope. I think we are in this place right now. I’m not predicting something bad will happen. I am saying we live in one of those times rife with hope and possibility and that there are assassins of hope waiting in fear. This time in our history is loaded and heavy with hopeful people.


Unwieldy issues and ideas have parked right in my front yard. I can think of no other way to deal with things I have little control over, than to Pray. So, I Pray from the “Common Prayer Book” -

“Almighty God, who hast given us this good land for our heritage: We humbly beseech thee that we may always prove ourselves a people mindful of they favor and glad to do thy will. Bless our land with honorable industry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion; from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way. Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people the multitudes brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues. Endue with the spirit of wisdom those to whom in thy Name we entrust the authority of government, that there may be justice and peace at home, and that, through obedience to thy law, we may show forth thy praise among the nations of the earth. In the time of prosperity, fill our hearts with thankfulness, and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in thee to fail. Oh Lord our Governor, whose glory is in all the world: We commend this nation to thy merciful care, that, being guided by thy Providence, we may dwell secure in thy peace. Grant the President of the United States, the Governor of this State (or Commonwealth), and to all in authority, wisdom and strength to know and to do thy will. Fill them with the love of truth and righteousness, and make them ever mindful of their calling to serve this people in thy fear; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.”

When I think of President Obama I can’t say I know which story in history is about to repeat itself. I do indeed know that things will change. They already have. Even if you don’t believe it, the Obama campaign slogan "Change we can believe in" has already been proven entirely true. As of a few nights ago our society was finally weaned off her ‘sucky’, her pacifier. This, after years of our relatives whispering, “Shouldn’t they be taking that damned thing away from her by now?”