1979

I lived in a one bedroom apartment. I lived with a woman whom I was soon to leave. (Actually, she left me for a school back East and I just decided to stay behind.) Next door to our tiny apartment lived a deaf woman who, when starting her car in the morning, revved the engine loudly, unable to hear the ruckus she caused. The bus stopped right outside our front door. All night long, the rumble of the bus up the hill. Even now, I sometimes have dreams about that apartment, about walking up the hill after missing the bus.

The apartment was dismal. Dark, smelly, and sparse I sat on the couch one night all alone, watching the Presidential election returns. I was depressed. The numbers projected Reagan and I was angry. I thought for sure the world was going to come to an end. What an asshole. What an incompetent mumble mouth. What a blow job he was passing off as a personality. My stomach hurt. My head hurt. I sat on that dilapidated old couch and ate stale popcorn uncertain of what tomorrow would bring.

Tomorrow came. Tomorrow went. Then the disappointment of the first Bush. Then the hope (and frustration) of Clinton followed by an even more disappointing Bush the Second.

And now, I sit in the study listening to the TV in the other room as the announcers dissect another election. "Historical" they say, "Monumental" they say, "Stunning" they say. Of course, it's only the primary (Super Tuesday), but the way they sling it, this is the most fascinating stuff on earth!

I want the pollsters to interview me. Call me up, I say, and this is what I'll tell you: I don't care who wins the primary because when it's all said and done, the Democratic candidate has my vote...by default. Obama...sure, I'll vote for him. Clinton...okay, I'll do it. Clinton/Obama I might even get excited, but the bottom line is this -- I will vote for someone other than a Republican. Isn't that how some Republicans feel, too?

Perhaps not. Rush Limbaugh thrust his tripe at McCain clamoring that he was not "conservative" enough. Others have chimed in too and are, in fact, doing it right now as I type. But still, you can't tell me that Republicans, when given the choice between a wimpy conservative and Hillary Clinton won't choose the wimp? You can't tell me that some hardcore right-wing Christians won't vote for the "moderate" McCain over a black man?

My house now is much more pleasant than that dreary apartment. I have a partner I want to spend my life with and dog to match. I have dear, dear friends who I enjoy as much as I can. I haven't lost hope as I thought I had in 1979, but I'm not the foolish optimist I was either. Still, this election stuff can give me an ulcer. Please don't make it McCain. Please not Romney. Please not Huckabee (though think of the fun you could have with that name in a foreign tongue). Get Bush out. Give me someone a bit more sensible. Give me someone a bit more realistic and not so bumbling or bombastic. Give me someone who can say "terrorist" and not sound like their mouth is filled with cheap beer.

Sometimes 1979 doesn't feel that far back. Sometimes I think politics is God's joke (if there is a God) on all of us. Sometimes I see life as a lumpy couch in a miserable one-bedroom apartment.

But most of the time I don't.

Give me a candidate, Democrats. Just give me a candidate. Piss on all this waiting and weighing.