Editor's note: This contribution by the late journalist I.F. Stone first appeared in our January 1975 magazine.
If Sarah Palin asks again, I’m doing pretty good with “that hopey changey thing.” I watched the Democratic Convention on CSPAN with USOpen breaks, except on opening night of football and that night there was some partisan bickering for clicker dominance.
The Dems threw a good convention. After the White Party the GOP threw in Tampa, it was a relief to see a rainbow of diversity on stage and in the house in Charlotte. The first night I was proud of MA guv Deval Patrick challenging the Dems to grow a backbone. San Antonio Mayor Castro shone, and was simultaneously outshone by his four-year old daughter checking her hair in the jumbo-trons. Michele Obama dazzled in brocade and performance. It was a pleasure to see how she has grown into her role.
On the second night the women shone – Planned Parenthood and NARAL were well-represented - and then former prez Bill Clinton, the S’plainer-in-Chief, took his sweet Bubba-Elvis time rebutting the GOP Tampons and rocked the house. I’m getting closer to forgiving him for DADT, DOMA and NAFTA. I’m not there yet.
Gabby Gifford opened the last night and VP Joe Biden and Prez Barack Obama again framed the choice we have on election day. All the balloons had been used in Tampa so there was just lots of confetti but I could still see that Timothy Cardinal Dolan giving the amen sendoff. Really? Why not Rick Warren again?
Mitt Romney says the party is over and today is the hangover.
He is such a prissy little buzzkill. Has he ever even had a hangover? Maybe he was over-served soft vanilla ice cream, but otherwise, no.
It’s sixty days to the election. Sixty days of Candy Crowley and Gwen Ifill patiently checking in with undecided voters. Ugh. I hate them more than beets. I’m not proud of it. Who are they? Rejects from Big Brother? Attention starved middle children? If I were Candy or Gwen, I’d put the squeeze on them, “Oh come on. Don’t be coy. I’ll say a name, you nod.”
Reminds me of David Sedaris’ hilarious analysis of undecideds. It would be as if you were on a plane and the flight attendant described your meal options as chicken or dog excrement. The undecided voter would ask, “Is the chicken boneless?”
I am a decided voter. I believe in change and hope and know, from my experience in the LGBT movement, that it takes time. We were well-represented in the Dem convention and in the platform. They forgot god, but they got us in! Coolio. In Tampa the GOP LGBTs thought it was progress that they didn’t get yelled at from the podium.
Count me in with Forward. As Clint Eastwood said in the GM ad, not to the empty chair, “It’s half-time in America. We’re about to start the second half.”
And it’s no time to switch quarterbacks. If you are somehow undecided, while you’re making up your mind, for hope and change, send money to Tammy Baldwin running for Senate in Wisconsin. Or to Elizabeth Warren in MA.
If you liked this article by Kate Clinton, a columnist for The Progressive magazine, check out some of her other pieces by clicking here.