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Last Thursday, I attended a rally here in Tucson for Jim Pederson, at which Bill Clinton also appeared. It was my first time seeing Big Dog in person, and I, along with the crowd of 8,000 (some papers said 10,000) was both energized and strangely saddened by his words, his enthusiasm, his charisma and wit. Saddened, I say, because, as I stood there listening, I was reminded of what had been lacking in the American presidency of late, how much we had lost, the full impact of our predicament on too many levels. It was, for me, the type of moment any of us can have, even as we kept up the fight for so long, struggling to reclaim our country from those who were hellbent on destroying it. We all get tired, we all have had days where we were running on empty, unsure of how much longer we could keep fighting, exhausted and afraid. It was one of those nights for me.
As I was leaving the rally, I found myself walking behind a couple with their little baby in tow. The infant was in his carrier, facing me, dangling from the grown man's hand. I remember staring down at that child, his eyes big as saucers as he stared back up, his little mouth curling upward in a smile which touched me more deeply than words can adequately express. Already near to tears from whatever sense of impending doom and terror had hit me during an otherwise inspiring rally, I spoke to the infant without opening my mouth, a silent prayer, a promise that we wouldn't give up, we had to clean up the mess so his generation would not inherit a nightmare. He was counting on all of us, we owed it to him.
When I made it back to my car, I rang up my mum to tell her how the rally had gone (she lives in Tiny Town in a state which JUST TURNED BLUE), I told her about the child and broke down completely. I remember telling her how I'd been seized with that strange panic and moment of hopelessness, and that if the election didn't go well, things might well get seriously ugly, sooner than later. I am 33 years old and no longer a baby, but that night I shut down, I was afraid, just so tired from all the hard work we've all put in to taking our country back. I recovered quickly enough as I am fortunately able to do, but that infant's cherubic, innocent little face has stayed with me since.
AND WE FUCKING DID IT!! :bounce: :bounce: :woohoo: :woohoo:
Yes, the urge to keep gloating is strong, I know. But the work doesn't end here. We've got a huge mess to clean up, folks. As Jim Pederson, who, alas, was not victorious over Kyl here in Arizona, told us at the rally about all the Dems who win this election: "Hold our feet to the fire."
Don't forget it.
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