Yes, yes, yall. It’s 39 days until the election. Obama or bust, bitches. You doing your time on the trail? A weekend in PA? One last donation? Blowing up your email list with Palin polls? It’s crunch time. A little over a month. 943 hours. 56606 minutes. 3396410 seconds. In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in curtailed debate schedules. How do you measure your last days in society?
If you haven’t thought about it, you know your Obama-button wearing buddy has: the big “OPT OUT.” The potential mass exodus of young lefties if McCain and Palin take the ticket in November. I haven’t done any formal polling, but judging from the amount of people who drop the “if they – if we let this happen again – if they win…I don’t even know – I’m OUT!” on me to end whatever political conversation we’ve been having (again, not an actual actuary, but it’s about 1 in 3 half-drunk convos), the bike lanes in Albequerque and Bucharest (film scene is totally avant, and it’s cheap!) are about to get a whole lot more crowded.
I’m skeptical, because I rank the possible American firsts to happen as a result of this election in the following order of likeliness:
- America elects first black president.
- America elects first female VP
- The new administration sets up first ever Presidential Custom Tee and Mixtape outfit in the Roosevelt Room, with an outpost at 145th and Lenox.
- Idealistic American youth follow through on their word.
But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe legions of artists and dreamers will take the path of Fitzgerald and Hemingway in the 20s, Baldwin and Miles Davis in the 50s, Ginsberg and Burroughs in the 60s, Marc Jacobs today. Maybe my hyperliterate friends will pick up their banjos, buy their flatbed fruit trucks, and do the Emile Hirsch.
Do what you need to do. But in the words of your mother, try to be back in time for Hillary 2012, OK?