Black Monday

Yesterday over cake and coffee a friend and I were talking election nightmares the way I used to tell ghost stories with fellow Wolf scouts by a camp fire enjoying 'smores and hoping I wasn't being too blatant at looking up their shorts. As I babbled on about how I still held that image of Obama in the stadium in Denver and those wonderful "real people" testimonials, we both imagined a McCain-Palin White House. McCain would be dead in the first six months. If not by natural causes then by the gun of a hired pair of Russian/Iranian hitmen. A President McCain is more likely to be the target of a right wing bullet than a President Obama, we concluded.

Oddly at the most secure financial position in my life that could still suddenly slide down the slippery slope, I must relish that today's news from Wall Street may be the same fuel that turned the tide in 1992. I really want to attend Bye Bye Bush parties the way I didn't on a blustery January night in 1993, filled with hope that there really is justice in the world. I still believe and demand that hope return.