Blogging The Election Part III: Memories being made
On Tuesday night, I stood in a poll after high-tailing it out of work around 5:30 and wading through various assortments of traffic hazards on the 85. The elementary school library was filled with volunteers. I somehow managed to crack a wry joke asking them if I was "too late" to which they seriously replied that I wasn't. Even with the emptiness of the polls and the radio blaring that Obama had snagged both Pennsylvania and Ohio, I still had to make the bubbles on the electoral scantron count.


Then I went to my house to watch results. I had the cable TV on MSNBC when the boyface called me and let me know that he was at The Firehouse in Sunnyvale. I had told him earlier that a bunch of local Obama supporters were going to be there, so he went straight to the pub after work. I tried driving there as fast as I could since I knew California was going to close any second and that the major news outlets were going to blow out a huge wad. Just as I walked in, the news outlets called Virginia and the screen suddenly read "BARACK OBAMA ELECTED PRESIDENT" with videos of reactions across the country interspersed with maps of states and numbers.



The room began cheering, clapping, and hollering. A "this-is-not-really-happening" kind of chill ran down my spine, and at that moment, I felt incredibly elated. I had helped in accomplishing something major from convincing a few coworkers to vote for Obama over Clinton to working at the phones at the very last minute. Truthfully, we had all done it. Every single person in that room had cooperated as an agent of change and it made us feel powerful for the first time in many years.

After the jubilation, we sat next to a mother and daughter wearing matching rhinestone Obama shirts.


McCain delivered a worthy concession speech that foiled his entire campaign in its humility and willingness to accept defeat. Obama delivered an even more profound speech that mirrored the sentiment of all of us feeling responsible for this night's outcome. As I watched the speech, I glanced over at the boy, still wrapped in my arms wearing his Obama-Biden t-shirt (which took forever to get to him), and saw his face streaked with fresh tears. I leaned over to kiss the tears off of his cheeks and felt really good about the future. This is a memory I will not soon forget.

Not of us, but Obama inspires love all over.