back in the ussr

I just finished doing some yoga with my Wii Fit; after some rather intense election-driven emotions over the past few hours, I found myself desperate to forget it all for a few minutes and do some stretching. I'm getting ready for bed, and in many ways I don't feel like blogging tonight, but in the interest of ensuring that my parents don't think that some crazed Californian killed me, I shall persevere.

Say what you will about Obama's potential policies, or my rather serious concerns about the depth of Democratic control of both branches of the legislature, there is something fundamentally good about this nation in that we are able to elect men (and someday women) to high office, given that only a hundred and fifty years ago we were killing each other over slavery. That such a tidal shift in national thinking has occurred in such a relatively short period of time is remarkable. I am generally optimistic about our long-term future (concerns about the apocalypse aside), mostly because we tend to be a nation that allows for the free flourishing of new ideas. If nothing else, Obama's election signals just how broad the opportunities in this country are.

However, I'm not thrilled that he won. I'm thrilled that he represents a generational shift and a possible move towards post-racial politics. I'm thrilled for all the people in the crowds who thought this day would never come (and was unexpectedly moved by seeing the tears on Jesse Jackson's face, even though I disagree with him on just about everything). I'm thrilled that the election is over and we can start focusing on the real problems that we face. But I'm not thrilled about the direction that we may take in facing them. I'm not thrilled that the typical Democrat solutions to such problems are steeply increased spending, an emphasis on unions, and policies that inevitably seem to be bad for the short-term health of small businesses (businesses that usually can't weather the storm and survive long enough to see any long-term gains).

What I do hope comes out of all of this is that the Republican party, or, even better, some combination of the centrist, socially-liberal/fiscally-conservative elements of both parties, ends up doing some serious soul-searching and reinvention over the next couple of election cycles. Most of my despondency over the past couple of months was tied directly to the fact that I don't feel like I have a party; my affiliation to the Republicans seems betrayed by the aggressive spending of the last eight years and the ridiculous emphasis on turning moral beliefs into binding law, while I can never get behind the Democrats on most of their platform.

The biggest part of my despondency, though, stems from feeling ridiculously alone. It's not like I'm an arch-conservative (as evidenced by the fact that I attended a district Republican convention as a youth delegate during the 1996 election, suggested that maybe we should drop the anti-abortion plank, and was promptly labeled a 'Clinton spy' by my peers and forced to eat lunch alone). But since my SF district is only 9.7% registered Republican and my workplace is overwhelmingly Democrat, I have few people with whom I can have a rational conversation about politics. Note that 'rational' doesn't mean that I expect people to agree with me; rather, I don't like the pervasive sense that anyone who has conservative beliefs should somehow either a) be ashamed of themselves, or b) is just too stupid/ignorant to understand and support the liberal viewpoint. I've said this before, and now you can wait until at least 2010 before I say it again, but it always amazes me how many Democrats profess to be all about voter rights and empowerment, and yet say the most disparaging things about the 'red' half of the country and suggest that they shouldn't be voting. This is not all or even most Democrats, but it's those people who have made me uncomfortable/unlikely to share my views outside of a close circle of friends (+ the less controlled audience of this blog).

But, it's all over, and I'm happy about that. I actually cried rather hard during McCain's concession speech, which surprised me; I don't think I've cried that hard since possibly the last funeral I went to. It was only perhaps 10% related to where I think the country's going; the other 90% was because, even though I think he didn't run a great campaign, should never have picked Palin as his VP, and disappointed me with his non-maverick stance on so many issues, I still have a great deal of respect and admiration for him, and I always cry when I see lifelong dreams die (hence my emotional investment in the Olympics). I also cried a little during Obama's speech, out of recognition for what the moment itself meant even though I'm not particularly looking forward to the next four years.

So with some tears, some yoga, and some blogging, I think it's time for bed. Tomorrow we'll return to your regularly-scheduled inane and non-controversial blog style, so I hope you're ready for two more years of meaningless drivel. Although I must say that it's moments like these when I want to get involved in politics -- stupid, I know, but if I could control my spurts of insanity, I could be a great politician. On that scary thought, it's time for bed!