Monday, March 3, 2008
No We Can’t! Confessions of a Hillary Supporter . . .
Being a Hillary supporter has been a strange, and not entirely pleasant experience. Not only do you have to deal with the expected (“I hate her voice! It’s so shrill and school marmish”) but the unexpected, too (“Yes We Can!”).
When you tell Obama fans that you support Hillary, they look genuinely puzzled, maybe even a bit worried for you. It’s like something doesn’t entirely compute. “But have you not heard him speak?” they ask. “Did you not listen to that inspiring will.i.am song I emailed you?”
Yes, I did.
Here’s the funny thing about Obama. I love the guy. Really, I do. I remember the first time I heard him give a speech, at the Democratic Convention four years ago. I was driving home from a movie screening and I had the radio on. I thought, “Who’s that?”
When I got home, I flipped on the TV and saw that he was this young, handsome black man. I nearly fainted with joy. I had seen the future and it was . . . totally awesome. I just didn’t think the future was so, you know, soon.
Look, both Hillary and Obama are brilliant. Obama is more charismatic. Hillary is more experienced. Obama is less divisive. Hillary, in my mind at least, has bigger balls. Right about now (maybe you've noticed that our country is in the crapper), I’ll take brains and experience and cojones over brains and charm and that certain je ne sais quoi. But that’s just me. (And dag, sometimes it seems like it really is just me.)
My dream ticket? Hillary on top. Obama as VP. Eight years from now, Obama for the win! Obviously, that’s not going to happen. But there’s the dream.
Since I tend to think of things in terms of sports, I’ll make the following analogy: Not rooting for Obama is a bit like not rooting for Derek Jeter. I’m an Orioles fan. (Yes, a Hillary Clinton fan and an Orioles fan. And did you see my Maryland Terps gack up that 20 point lead against Clemson last night? Note to anyone trying to win at anything: If you see me coming, run the other way).
Anyway, where was I? Derek Jeter. So I remember when Derek Jeter first joined the Yankees and he was the freakin’ toast of New York. He’s so handsome! He’s so dreamy! He’s so clutch! Naturally, I reveled in every detail that challenged the Derek mythology: If he’s such a goody goody, why is he canoodling with Mariah Carey? And if he’s so amazingly clutch and perfect, why is he the worst shortstop in baseball?
The truth is, Derek Jeter is a nice guy and a clutch athlete, too. But he’s not perfect. And sometimes it seems like his fans think he is.
I guess that’s what I want to say to all you Obamaniacs: Lay off, okay? I don’t hate your guy. I’m just rooting against him. That’s what fans do. And when you win tomorrow (sigh), don’t gloat either. Let me lick my wounds, give me a chance to recover. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll download that damn song onto my iPod.