Election Hangover

2016 felt like the year in which all things were possible. And then weren't. It was the year in which Democrats had a hotly contested run-off between a centrist hawk of a woman and a truly progressive Jewish man. It was the year an idiot like Donald Trump could ride his Celebrity Apprentice star power to the top of the Republican food chain and score a nomination despite having no actual platform or proven ability to tell the truth.  I felt at times the most hopeful I have in decades--I was phone banking for Bernie for Christ's sake--and the most despair I've felt since watching the Twin Towers come down and knowing that the winds of history were not blowing in our favor. It's been a rough ride this 2016, but still I was thinking that all of this election ugliness would be behind us by now and we'd be welcoming our first female president into office soon. Somewhere in that second debate, with my hands half over my face, I just felt so ashamed that we had subjected Hillary to this spectacle against Trump. It was so far beneath her as a political opponent. She is many things and many of them I am not enthusiastic about, but as a political animal, she has few peers. I might not agree with her at times, but I have no doubts about her abilities as a leader. I know she can run the country. And yet, by the third debate, she was being chided as a "nasty woman" by a man I can barely stand to look at, let alone entrust to run this nation. It was all too much and I was buoyed by the sense that this was her political moment. It felt like women were finally uniting around Hillary and we were going to get this thing done. 

And then that fateful Tuesday morning came and I was getting nervous all over again. It had been a long week with the FBI Director's last minute muddling of the email scandal and I was not sure which way the winds were turning.  And then just 48 hours before voting, I heard the Clinton campaign had cancelled fireworks planned for the celebrations in NYC. I couldn't help but feel that was a bad omen. Why? What did they know that we didn't? Still I woke to a beautiful November morning in the city and Nacho and I made a quick dash into Manhattan before coming back to vote around lunch time. I soothed my Bernie or Bust conscience by voting Working Families Party line and that allowed me to support Hillary but not the Democrats who had so turned against my values this election cycle. They were not the party I could support with enthusiasm. We were in and out of there in about 35 minutes which is longer than usual and I was seeing and hearing from people in New York and beyond that lines were long. High turn out tends to break Democratic. I was feeling optimistic....if cautiously so. Lunch at Soleluna was Nacho's first time there and everything tasted great. Our kids had school that day which was at odds with most of the NYC public schools taking the day off.  We went home to relax knowing our work was done, and yet as evening fell, I wasn't sure what I expected to happen next. I watched on social media as friends took their kids to vote with them and had them color in maps of the electoral college. Personally, I didn't do any of that because I didn't want the kids too emotionally invested.  And yes, I say that as someone who had their kids march in a parade holding Bernie signs. But that was different. That was for the primary--a clash of ideas and ideals--and I believe it's important to come out swinging hard for your candidate. But in this mess of a general election pure evil had raised its head. It has been such a hateful year watching the worst in people manifest itself politically.  Knowing what was at stake in this election made me sad and scared and somber.  I actually opted to keep the TV off the news before bedtime because I didn't want them going to bed wondering who would win. I wasn't sure who was going to prevail and I didn't need their anxiety to mix with mine. They forgot all about the election by the time it was lights out. They slept soundly. I did not. 

By early evening, I knew we were in trouble. We were hoping to get projections by 8:30 or even 9 p.m. that would clear a path for Clinton's victory. By 9:30 it looked bad. The New York Times projections were already leaning heavily towards a Trump win. I kept refreshing the page hoping an update would reverse the tide. But the unfathomable was happening. I was at turns stunned silent and reeling with a furious I-told-you-so certainty that this was exactly what so many Bernie supporters knew was coming. We fucking knew. It's partly why his loss in June in the primaries was so heart breaking. Clinton might bend the Democratic Party to her will and get that coronation she always wanted, but the American public couldn't be so easily bought. At every turn she seemed at a loss to understand how she wasn't winning with bigger margins. But for me it was easy to see how people like my parents who supported Bernie for his unflinching honesty and seemed ready to rock the vote for something different this year would fail to get behind the Clinton machine. Voters were turned off and those who were motivated were largely turning out to vote against her. It was exactly what Bernie had prophesied in the spring: Trump won the Electoral College decisively. I went to bed not knowing exactly how bad it would be. Still holding out a glimmer of hope that I would wake to some kind of miracle and Clinton would have lawyered up ready to fight. But no. By morning all the news outlets were shaking their collective heads. No one saw this coming. It was a total miss by the media and it made me sick to my stomach. I didn't know what to tell the girls but I had to think of something. I couldn't chance them hearing it first on the bus. So I opted to go the good news/bad news route. The good news being that we were going to see Disney on Ice that evening. The bad news: Hillary Clinton didn't win. "Who won?" Elisa asked. "Donald Trump," I said. "He's going to build a wall!" Carolina wailed. "Well, no, not yet. I mean, he can't do that without others saying yes. And Obama is still the President today and until January." It felt better to think that Trump wasn't anything yet. Maybe there was still a way to avoid this disaster in the making. "Donald Trump....he's a...fuckin' person!" declared Carolina with all the anger in her sweet little face. "Um, yes. Yes, he is, but we don't say that at school, okay?" We went outside and this seemed like an appropriate response: 

Can't argue with that. Thanks, Sunnyside

I enjoyed the distraction of the ice show...even if I felt like I should apologize to everyone who had to work it. It felt like it should have been a national day of mourning.

By Thursday night, I needed to get out and socialize with my ladies...still feeling fragile but better with good company and good drinks!

And somehow the sun still rose and the moon shone brighter than ever. We ended our week with a moonlit walk through Sheep Meadow in Central Park. It was one of the Super Moon evenings and it was an incredible sight to watch that giant golden globe rise over the park. People stopped to take too many bad photos (myself included) and yet there was a sense of calm silence watching this bit of nature overshadow us all. Our problems are so minuscule compared to the history of the universe. When will it end? Will Trump hasten the final whistle? Who knows. Right now, I only know that misery loves company and having Nacho home to make me a killer margarita was a welcome bonus. We will get through this. I know we will. It might be four year hangover, but that too shall pass. As Bernie says we started this revolution and we still have a lot of work to do. I believe that more now than yesterday or the day before. It's time to fight.