Faces in a Crowd ... Election Day

I had some time off on Election Eve, Donnie .... I got to watch you on the television talking in North Carolina and Pres. Obama speaking in Durham, NH. You've talked about the enthusiasm factor and there's little doubt that your crowds are energized ... sorry ... shoulda said: your HUGE crowds are energized. They are energized. No doubt about it. Energy. Lots of energy. They're hootin' and hollerin' things like:

Build That Wall

(as in Mexico is gonna pay for the wall)

Lock'er Up 

(as in Sen. Clinton looks better in Orange Jump Suits)

Criminal 

(as in self-evident)

USA ... USA ... Make America Great, Again

(Well, you know about Historical Jingoisms and where they've gone)

Well, you get the picture, Donnie. Lots of energy. It's kinda like an Un-Christian power, though, as Pope Francis said ... there are powerful bridges to love and disruptive walls that run counter to that.

But there is more than the power of anger.

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So, then, I got to listen to the President ... the guy you call the worst President in History, just as you've changed Sec'y Clinton from "one of the best" to "the worst" Secretary of State. I guess Obama does have lots of Power, himself ... I Suppose he could start a war. He does have the Codes and he could spend his nights playing with ... y'know ... his Twitter ... to see if he could still get somethin' outa that Twitter. I guess it wasn't all that kind for him to describe you auto-erotically playing with your Twit-ter ...

But you get it. POTUS is a counterpuncher. 

Anyhow, since I've heard him say most of the things he said, anyway, I instead watched the crowd for the first time. So, here are some of the Faces in the Crowd that I saw. You can check the film ... KellyAnne will show you how to do it. So ... 

I saw a young woman, wearing a brown sweater. Not certain you would've noticed her ... she had a soft face ... beautiful even if not exotically so ... not a scream came out of her mouth ... I didn't, in fact, see her say anything. Just kinda pensively attentive ... rapt in admiration for her and my President. Anyway, she was wearing clothes, not lying on a bear-rug and was wiping tears from her face, as she listened to her President. Tears ... yeah ... Tears. 

I wanna tell you, also about four older women. Two on POTUS' right and two appearing from behind him as he moved about, slightly.  I suppose they were clustered in age about my age. ... 60's and 70's? I guess. Their hands were pretty quietly clapping, signs raising without too much fanfare ... they had graying or white or peppered hair. Good looking? It's hard to be a "10," y'know, when you're between 60 and 80, but I think I'd be pleased to know them and sup with them. Warm ... Kind-looking. Can't say that I'm all that pretty, myself ... maybe if I donned a Golden coif, I'd be a Pretty Little Rich Boy like you ... but not likely.

What bound their faces together for me were the wistful tears. Who knows what they were actually thinking? My suspicion, at the time? I imagined they were playing in their minds with what it meant to see President Barack Hossein Obama ... Afro-European ... standing ... reflecting ... thinking on his feet ... our brilliant President who many of us thought could never be elected ... us? who had grown up hoping for a Country where All Men and Women are Created Equal ... you know the line. Maybe they were, like me, proud of a country that could overcome ancient prejudices and see an African-American President sing the praises of a Woman whom he claimed is far more experienced than he was when he was sworn in. Damn! The Sweet Sadness and the tears that come with the success of our Country. Not from our ability to "Carpet-bomb the Shit out of Them" ... not from our willingness to "Fuck You" all who disagree with us ... not due to the power of our pudgy little fingers on the button ... or even our freedom to deprecate war heroes ... but America the Great that promotes Brotherhood and Sistehood and Love of Children ... kinda like a London  that can appoint a Muslim Mayor or a Knesset that can elect Arab members. ... All this I imagined from the faces of my four Old Sisters sitting and listening with their eyes warming to to vision of Pres. Obama.

Then, there was the young, bearded guy ... short hair ... Orange shirt with an Eagle ... must be some brand. He wasn't moving around very much and it took me awhile to figure out that his stillness was accompanied by a slow reddening of his nose ... and two fingers -- every now and then -- clearing something from his left eye.

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Frankly, Don-Boy, I was a Sen. Sanders' supporter from the start. But, look here ... Sen./Sec'y Clinton has class that glitz and bully-power can never have. Your 200 word vocabulary? really not impressive. Who was it who talked about a Pig in Lipstick? Sen. Clinton has knowledge that a 70'ish man like you or me will never acquire at our age. Y'know ... Old Dogs and New Tricks. She has experience that we can never get and a worldview as a woman that we can only imagine. We men envy women and if we get out of the way, we have much to learn about womanly power. As I said in a previous posting to this Blog ... It's not all male penetrative power. Women have different rhythms but you already know that ... Did I hear you say that you know more about Women that Hugh Hefner? Oh, and Hillary? she's got balls of steel ... yeah ... you'bet. And she's done stuff that heads of state do, you close deals, leave too many folk hanging and Twit-ter-er! Hell ...

The books you write? You didn't write. 

The Bible you cherish? You never read, I think. 

The Foreign Policies? Were written for you. 

Your love of women and Mexicans? Gimme a fuckin' break. 

Your love of the working man? C'mon. You've fucked over investors and contractors, alike.

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But before I say goodbye to you, three things:

(1) I am sorry that I felt the need to say nasty things about you. When a group of folk are standing about a bully pummeling even someone I don't agree with (like Jeb Bush), it's unfortunately no time to say ... "Hey, Bully ... I know your Mother loved you and somewhere your heart is good."

(2) When the guy in the audience last week was getting beaten up for being against you and the Big Guys in Black came to scoot you off stage, you showed some humanity. You were bent over with the fear any of us might feel in such a situation. Hell! I thought you looked like a captured POW ... frightened, small ...

(3) Donnie ... 70 is not too late to get up on an Analyst's Couch .... a place where people do more exploring of themselves than explaining of others ... There's still time to feel loved ... outside the Gates of a Gilded Cage.

Take off the Scary Clown Costumery, Donnie. There's still time!