11/4/04: L-I-V-I-N

I had a bad fucking day today. Not just with Bush.

I'll tell you about it, but first I want to send out my thoughts to anyone who has lost a parent or a sibling or a child or anything like that.  There can't be anything worse.

I woke up a little late for work today after sticking it out through a long election night in front of the TV.  I was beat, but there was shit to be sacked and who's gonna do it if not me?

The phone rang around 9am and the wife answered.  It was my mom, and after a little small talk, the wife handed me the phone.  I assumed mom was calling to commiserate about the election.

"Hi mom, how's it going?" I asked.

"OK, honey," she said. "Listen, have you heard from your father since yesterday?"

My parents are divorced, but they are somewhat friendly and only live about ten blocks from one another.  My father was, to put it mildly, fired up about this election.

"No...I mean, i spoke to him last night...why, is everything OK?" I asked. My pop is 78 years old, and since I can remember, I have lived with the fear that he would die.  That he would die before I was emotionally mature enough to deal with it.

"Well, it's probably nothing, but I just heard something kind of disturbing..."

"What, mom, did something happen?"

"Well, I just checked my messages, and there was a message on there from Malachy McCourt, and he said that...that..."

"What, did pop die?" I asked.  I was freaking the hell out.

"Well, that's what the message said.  He said he heard Bob had died and then he just started getting really upset..."

"Oh my God," I said.  "Oh my God."

"Look, I'm sure everything is OK, it's probably just a rumor."

"A rumor? What do you mean, a rumor? Have you tried to call him? What the hell is happening?"

"I tried to call, but I got the machine," she said.

At this point, I told her I was going to find out what was going on and I'd call her back.  I tried my pop's number, and I got the machine.  Surely my pop's lady friend/flatmate Kate would have called if anything happened, right? I tried Kate's daughter, and she hadn't heard anything.  I tried my pop again.  Machine. I called my sister. She started to freak out. I called my pop again.  Machine. I couldn't acknowledge the reality of the situation; it was too much.  I just kept hoping everything would be OK.

Finally, at around 9:30, I got through to my father's number.  Let me tell you there's never been a sweeter sound than pop's ragged but gentle voice on the other end of the line. He was alive.

What happened, exactly, I am not certain.  Apparently my pop's first wife, whom he hasn't spoken to in maybe 35 years, decided to look my dad up in the phone book. Of course, he lives with Kate so his number is not listed. When wife no. 1 saw that he wasn't there, I guess she assumed he had died.  This is where it gets fuzzy.  I guess she called Malachy, who is one of my dad's oldest friends, to find out what happened.  This woman sounds crazy.  Anyway, Malachy was on vacation, and when he returned last night, there was a message that Bob was dead.  He in turn called my mom to relay the news. A total cock-up. I am not sure on whom I should pin the blame for this misunderstanding.

But my pop is alive.  And I love him.

Pop was sort of amused by the rumor, and he called Malachy. He got the machine and told Malachy he was calling on his cellphone from his coffin and could Malachy please come down and help him get the hell out?

The incident left me shaken for the whole day.  I was so unprepared for it.  But here's to my pop for being alive and ready to start the push towards Decision '08. Let's all push along with him.

Pop's first wife: Big Gas Face.  Malachy: Mild Gas Face

***

So I am still reelin' and dealin' from the election.  Sita has written in with a thoughtful examination of both the election and the ensuing liberal hand wringing. It's actually an examination of all of us. I guess I am as guilty as anyone else, condemning 60% of the country because 60% of this 60% don't agree with my personal view of the world. Of course, I was mad. We just put a decent and honorable man up against a shady evangelical halfwit and got our hats handed to us. I was bound to speak in large terms. I don't hate those Red States, I just don't ever want to meet the 60% of the people who live there who think W. is the man for the job. Because he ain't. And right now I am not open to discussing this. I guess Sita is right, we should be reaching out for one another and trying to understand each other's views, but not for a couple of weeks. It's like the day after the Red Sox beat the Yankees...I wanted the people responsible to suffer physical harm.  But now I have calmed down, and only wish harm upon Kevin Brown. We will have a reasonable response to this election in the upcoming weeks, but not yet. It's a dark day today and I wish I had more to say, but I am a little bit in shock and I almost refuse to believe we gave this guy the keys to the Porsche for 4 more years.  So I am going to stew by myself.

My hope is that the Democrats are motivated by this defeat and rise up with a vengeance (and some good candidates) in the elections to come.  We can work together with the current regime, but we can't lose sight of how angry this made us.  We have to use that.

And I am semi-proud that Wisconsin stayed Blue.

***

Zogby is still busting out with the polls, the latest announcing that 77% of Americans who voted for Kerry spent the next day healing and playing the Google Image Search Game. Makes sense. The game's utter pointlessness has not been exposed yet, so let's play on. Nobody has answered yesterday's edition yet, so here is a hint: the search phrase is a common expression that we have all used in our lifetimes.  Remember, you can answer immediately on this because the game has been up for a full day already. And don't type in guesses about the pumpkin shot above.  That one came in from cW and I did a nice sloppy-ass photoshop tweak job on it.

***

After the election and the crap with my father afterwards, I really needed the iPod to come through for me on the way to work yesterday.  I willed the shuffle to find something in my meager library that might help me through the day. Sometimes when you're sad you want to hear something uplifting, sometimes you want to wallow and hear something sad. I didn't know what I felt today, but I knew there had to be a song that was just right for the occasion.  Unfortunately, my collection is just too limited and concentrated with like 6 artists, all of whom I am sick of.  The best I could come up with was a tune from My Morning Jacket. This one goes out to GWB: "Lowdown."

***

Coffee breath stinks.