Why Barack Is Losing Me

OK, so over the months I’ve said that I’m for Barack, but hedged a bit by admitting that my support wasn’t unconditional and that I was willing to jump ship at the first sign of short-coming, or very uncomfortable moment. I haven’t actually jumped yet, but it’s safe to say that I have my life vest on, and I’m standing on the rail.

My support has been hinged on two primary factors. First and foremost, Senator Obama is black. Secondly, I applaud his philosophy.

Elsewhere, I realize writers are going through all sorts of gymnastics to make race “NOT” the primary issue of the Obama campaign. I have neither mat nor high bar here. I am what I am, and it is what it is. I’d LOVE to see a black President.

I got the same lecture as every other middle class black adolescent about being able to become anything I wanted to – a lesson that inevitably ended with some allusion to the White House.

I admit it, I was a skeptic about it then, and I’m even moreso now.

I believe I could’ve made the NBA, NFL, or played major league baseball.

I believe I could’ve become an actor, and based on my skills perhaps even earned the title of movie star. I have no doubt that I could, and can become a musician of some renown.

I have no doubt that millionaire status is within my grasp.

I even believe that if I’m willing to skip a few additional nights of sleep and work more hours, I could turn the “M” into a “B,” and join the rare air of Gates, Oprah, and Buffett.

I am positive I could run for, and win a Sheriff seat somewhere.

I am certain I could sit on any city’s council, county’s school board, or State’s legislature.

I could be the mayor, hell, Marion Barry has convinced me that I could do THAT … and not have to necessarily rule out a moonlighting career as a crackhead.

I am skeptical, but fall on the side of believing that I could be a governor … there’s been one.

If I did one of the previous things first, I could even find my way to the U.S. Senate—a pretty exclusive club.

I could make it to the US House of Representatives with relative ease, and on merit and local popularity alone.

I have the training and talent to be a network news anchor today. Unfortunately, I’m over that dream.

But President?

Hmmm …

I’m afraid you’re gonna have to show me one before I believe that anything other than a white, old, Protestant-leaning, homo-sapien with a penis, who’s relatively detached from normalcy, can worm his way to that Residence.

And this isn’t a passive belief. I’ve wasted my vote on chics you’ve never heard of (Lenora Fulani) who made it to the ballot, and squandered it by writing in black men who I knew had no chance at even making it past the primary.

But those were all in elections that I thought didn’t matter. At times I was a one-issue voter, and my issue was … “please, not another white guy.”

The truth is, up until probably … last year, I might’ve even voted for Condoleeza Rice, had she chosen to run, just for the chance to be part of the tri-fecta victory (Black, female, Southerner).

But this cycle, stakes is high. Being black isn’t enough for me.

For certain, there are black men I WOULD vote for—which brings us to Senator Obama’s philosophy.

Periodically, the nation requires some person whose primary contribution is to change the debate. Throughout the cycle of U.S. history, there has occasionally been room for a man who has a different idea about “how” America could change its focus and capitalize on our strengths in a new way.

Lincoln, Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin Roosevelt, Harry Truman, even Ronald Reagan fit that particular mold. They were men who saw the world, sometimes very slightly, in a different way. Sometimes that vision was spawned from a crisis; war, or Depression, or poor international relations.

Barack Obama may very well be one of “those guys.”

Unfortunately, as much as we need bipartisan leadership, and a “uniter not a divider” right now, that’s not MY number one requirement.

As a political junkie, I’ve watched all … six (?) of the debates so far. And what worries me is the Illinois Senator’s inability to articulate how his philosophy would translate to policy that would make my life better.

For my money, we’ve already done the “he’s inexperienced but has good ideas” experiment. It’s a fucking disaster.

No, really.

We’ve lost an American city, a significant piece of our largest financial district, destroyed more than 50,000 lives in concentric circles of post-traumatic stress, many of the linchpins of our civil rights, whatever remaining confidence “we the people” have in our actual government (as opposed to the theory of our FORM of government), and our standing in the world.

Our economy is prepped for disaster, our language is being destroyed at the highest level of government, and we’ve been forced to learn the skill of being hoodwinked, and pretending to like it.

So now, I’m insisting on experience. NO MORE DUMMIES. No more sketchy resumes. No more "C" students (not that Barack is one of those...), No more daddy's boys, or "vote for this one cause you like some relative of theirs. No more inarticulate people who can't say what the fuck they mean without torturing the language I love.

If you can't deliver the line ... don't step up to the microphone. This is your chance to prove to me that you won't choke under pressure.

If you stutter and stumble your way through a yes or no question from Wolf Blitzer ... what's a press conference going to be like with you standing next to some extremely witty and articulate world leader who's speaking perfect English as a fourth or fifth language and crafting extemporaneous sentences next to you ... the bumbling, stumbling guy we sent out to be our champion? I'm tired of being embarrassed every time "my guy" opens his mouth to publicly speak. NO MORE.

POTUS is NOT an on-the-job training position. I don’t really give a shit if the moron handing me fries can’t count change, or requires pictographs on the cash register. It blows, and makes me afraid of the public school education system I'm financing, but it's hardly a moment-by-moment crisis. 16-year old high school sophomores are a dime a dozen, so are illegal immigrants, and you can find another one to read the number five off the cash register pictures, and make sure I get two quarters and a nickel, not the other way around.

But Chief Executive Officer of the free world?

Nah … THAT person is gonna have to actually pass the stupid tests. There is NO question in my mind that Barack is smart, maybe even brilliant.

There is no question that his service is of GREAT benefit to the country.

If he wins, it will STILL accomplish the validation of my mom’s bullshit story to me about how I could be President; I’m just not sure it would be helpful to the chaos that is my country.

From here on the rail, life vest strapped and inflated, there are two things he could do that would talk me down.

1. Announce that either Colin Powell, or Mark Warner is his Vice Presidential partner. NOW.

2. Blow me away in the next debate.


What’s that I see in the distance? USS Ron Paul? Hmmmm….maybe I should just jump.

Peace,

--Stew.




Photo:
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The Price of Pussy

Timeframe, 2007. The Bush administration is coming to a close, and if there is a tear being shed ANYWHERE for that, its happening either in a Corporate boardroom, or in a basement somewhere that hasn't been touched by the arrogance, incompetence, and blindly moronic path we've been led down.

Those basements are hard to find.

The nation is struggling with a combination of vitriolic dislike for a President too detached to be believed, and apparently too arrogant to just admit that "yeah, I fucked this one up, too," AND the broken promise of some symbolic return to a distant morality that no one can actually remember, but everyone wants to believe in, because the last five years have turned our collective conscience into a sucking chest wound.

And the new wannabes and Junior do-gooders have already lined up and stated their positioning statements, but wait ... wait, what's that on the horizon?

It's the rebirth of the pussy move.

Al Gore's no moron. He knows people (like me) regret not voting for the stiff (even though I didn't vote for the moron, either) and he wants to suck at the teat of sympathy while we beg and plead for a real leader.

His method? A movie, a series of lectures, and his second book in as many years.

Sir, if you're not going to help out--please stay the fuck off the stage. We're actually having a crisis right now, and if you're not here to roll up your sleeves and fight, I speak for at least three or four of us when I say with all the respect I can muster up ...

"I get it, the planet is heating up/cooling down, and to YOU that's the biggest crisis we have going, a four-alarm fire, I think you called it. Well, truth be told, unless the planet's going to EXPLODE between now and 2008, I'd rather focus on getting all of my friends out of Iraq, because I'd rather be watching ESPN with them when the planet DOES in fact explode, than still inexplicably jumping a little bit every time the phone rings late at night because I'm afraid its going to be somebody calling to tell me that ______ just got hit by an IED."

Besides, if you KNOW that you have the most experience this side of Gov. Bill Richardson, and you know he CAN'T win the race (because he can't figure out if he's a fing Red Sox or Yankees fan, for crissake), but you STILL won't play ball ... you're potentially something WORSE than a demogogue.

I've lost close games before, and I admit that it hurts ... BAD.

I cannot imagine how embarrassing and painful it must be to lose a multi-million dollar Presidential campaign on a technicality. I support a man's need to nurse his wounds, AND his ego. But humor me, and do that shit in private.

Don't show up to critique the current administration--I actually don't need your insight to figure out they're running my country into the ground. I don't need to hear your thoughts on the panel of people who opine on "what we should have done."

I don't really care about your ego. I'm just a bit thirsty for that feeling I get when the geeksquad shows up to fix my computer. They bring me a calming confidence that the smart guys are here to rub some brainpower on the problem. When their beetle shows up, I know my problem is being addressed by experts who aren't going to sleep very well until everything is restored to normal.

Nationally, I just want some smart, honest people to hash it out in a back office somewhere over finger food and Dasani, or Perrier, or whatever smart honest, people are drinking these days. And then, I want one of them to come out in front of the microphones connected to all seven of my 24/7 "news" channels and explain the solution with complicated sentences, using words I have to look up--because that's when I know the speaker is smarter than me.

My current President hasn't sent me scrambling for a dictionary for a definition even ONCE ... (although there WAS my usage question about "decider" ... and I digress.)

Mr. Gore, if you're not up to this, it's cool. I understand. Just exit stage right, and show up again AFTER campaign season. You're making my head hurt, AND ... you're making me think you're a pussy.

And what I've learned is that I can't afford anymore.

Peace,

--Stew.