An Open Letter to President-elect Obama

Dear President-elect Obama,

I’ll admit it: you weren’t my first choice, or my second one, either. 

But I sure was happy to see you stride onto the stage at Grant Park two Tuesdays ago. And props to you for even wanting the job. You’ve inherited one big flipping mess. 

Your shoulders are freighted with everyone’s hopes and fears right now. If the economic clouds part under your leadership, then you’ll truly be the Obamessiah (my favorite pejorative back when you handlers trotted you out on the campaign trail to the strains of “Jesus Christ, Superstar.” (Seriously, WTF were they thinking?) It made me want to throw up a little in my mouth–and throw my support to Hill or Edwards.

Hillary fought hard. Regarding Edwards, well, maybe I was thinking, “Charismatic and Shiny,” while everyone else was all like, “Preening Narcissist.” Everyone else got the memo before me on that one.

That’s when I started to pay attention to you, first as a consolation prize, but gradually, on your own merits. I still don’t really understand the Black Liberation Theology of Jeremiah Wright–and it feels presumptuous to say I ever could. Still, that’s my one little bone of contention, which your knockout speech in Philadelphia helped to dispel. 

But Former Senator/President-Elect Obama, the thing that got me was your grace and patience. The Repug ticket played to their wild-eyed, monster-in-the-closet base, whipping up tent-revival style hatred of you because of your race. There were even calls to do you bodily harm–which Gov. Flailin’ did nothing to extinguish. 

Still, you barely blinked. And even though they also gave you a banquet of low-hanging fruit to pluck when Flailin’s daughter’s teenage pregnancy was revealed, you adhered to the high road. 

Me? I was yelling  at MSNBC, wondering aloud why you didn’t just skewer ‘em with their own stupidity. 

You played it just right when the stakes were high. I only hope you can show us more of that in the future.

And if/when you have to disappoint some of us, some of the time, because of the limitations of your power and the world we’re all inheriting from Shrub, the Expert Marksman, and Turdblossom, I hope we can be as graceful and patient in return.

P.S. Good luck with Operation Nonallergenic Rover