Marriage & Obama

These last couple of weeks have given me heartburn and heartache, and a chance I didn't want - to dig deep and think about, "Can this Marriage be Saved?" This whole thing is about Obama and me. Well, about Obama and me and 20 million others, but it's just a number.

So, a bit of background: I fell hard for Obama the first time I heard him in 2004 when he made that extraordinary, transcendent speech at the Democratic convention; and, yes, like millions of others, made a promise that if he ever ran for President, I'd work my ass off for him. None of us had ever dated a guy like Obama, an actual politician. Living in LA, yeah, some of us dated actors who played politicians, but not a bona fide, living breathing one. (Well, that's not exactly true, full disclosure - my wasband was a politician, and one of the good guys.) As a contrarian bitch, I wasn't attracted to Bill Clinton (never understood that one), thought Gore and Kerry were, well guys I would NEVER EVER date. I will not go into my voting record. Suffice it to say, I'm a Decline to State.

Anyway, time passed, we fantasized about the distant object of our affection, when one day, The Phone Rang. It was HIM. He wants to date us! He bought a white horse and he's comin' to towns everywhere, bringing a message of Hope and Change. We wept with joy. He swept us - men and women, children and dogs - off our feet, and we accepted his proposal of marriage, and the idea that we would reach new heights together, ride off into the sunset, happily ever after...or as happy as you can be in politics.

If you've stayed with me til now, it may sound like I'm some kind of pie in the sky, adoring-him-at-all-costs type of person, but this couldn't be further from the truth. While I have happily volunteered for Obama since he announced, I always reminded people that he was not the Messiah, that he actually was a real politician, and all that it implies. But, confronting the reality of his Primary Self and his new General Election Self, left me and many others, feeling like we had married one person, and then when the lust wore off, our love object morphed into his werewolf self.

I won't go into the issues, but they are pretty much summed up in this NY Times opinion piece: http://tinyurl.com/6s3px4

Blogs, petitions, alarm bells, outraged lovers vented their feelings of betrayal, but it all made us sound like suckers...didn't we know what marriage was like? So, now we're reeling with questions of, "What to do? Should I leave him? I'll never love anyone like I love him?! There's no one else. I'm downcast. Besides, he's great in the sack (strike that, but it sounded good)". Our beloved husband tripped out with centrists, consorted with conservatives, yet still unabashedly came home with perfume on his collar (is that Hillary?). Call a lawyer. I'm outta here. BUT WAIT. There's more.

He's even feigning like it's no big deal. "Well, let me tell you something, Buster, it IS a big deal, and we'll never quite feel the same way about you again...but, you're the best we've got and we hope that when you're done with your little affair, and you come back as President, you'll make it all up to us. Here's the verdict: We'll stay with you because of the kids, but in the meantime, while we're tolerant - it's the 21st century after all - it'd be nice if you cuddled with us once in a while...for old time's sake.

Like It Or Not...Here I Am

Oh god, I've joined the bloggosphere. It's humiliating. Now, I'm just like every sap who thinks their opinion comes the unknowable depths of their singular genius. Yikes. But, since going to Camp Obama last summer turned me from a contrarian bitch...ok not exactly a bitch, but a sneering, anti-authoritarian recusant...into a loving, near touch-feely team player, I'm feeling okay about this. Besides, I want the world to see how bloody smart I am, too.

So, welcome, and I look forward to your comments, be they rebuttals, verbose exhortations, acute analysis, or pointedly clever remarks...just, please, not too much slime...even a computer's feelings can get hurt.

Hey, you should visit my last blog, and singular post, from way back in 2005, when I also thought I might become a blogger. So, a post once every 3 years...try it, you'll like it: http://bloggerforsale.blogspot.com/