Jonathan Curley has a great piece in the Christian Science Monitor about being cajoled into canvassing for Barack Obama by his wife.
It’s short, so I recommend reading the whole thing, but I think it does a great job of summing up why a) I believe McCain is going to lose on Tuesday, and b) why the GOP is going to lose big.
To set the stage, Curley is, in his own words “pretty conservative. I grew up in the suburbs. I voted for George H.W. Bush twice, and his son once. I was disappointed when Bill Clinton won, and disappointed he couldn’t run again. I encouraged my son to join the military. I was proud of him in Afghanistan, and happy when he came home, and angry when he was recalled because of the invasion of Iraq. I’m white, 55, I live in the South and I’m definitely going to get a bigger tax bill if Obama wins. I am the dreaded swing voter.”
There is a reason that states that were solidly red in past elections are in play in 2008 and although the the economy is a major factor, I think Curley, in the course of his canvassing, hits on something that the McCain campaign has completely missed and has, in fact, heaped scorn upon, to its detriment with the electorate.
Here’s Curley summing up what he learned from his time canvassing:
I learned in just those three hours that this election is not about what we think of as the “big things.”
It’s not about taxes. I’m pretty sure mine are going to go up no matter who is elected.
It’s not about foreign policy. I think we’ll figure out a way to get out of Iraq and Afghanistan no matter which party controls the White House, mostly because the people who live there don’t want us there anymore.
I don’t see either of the candidates as having all the answers.
I’ve learned that this election is about the heart of America. It’s about the young people who are losing hope and the old people who have been forgotten. It’s about those who have worked all their lives and never fully realized the promise of America, but see that promise for their grandchildren in Barack Obama. The poor see a chance, when they often have few. I saw hope in the eyes and faces in those doorways.
I think he’s right about the taxes. We cannot continue to run this nation with the same fiscal profligacy such as we’ve seen under the Bush Administration. Conservatives can’t blame it on the Democratic Congress because the GOP was in control of Congress for all but the last two years.
Same with Iraq. Our UN mandate for operations there is set to expire at the end of this year unless we come to an agreement with the Iraqi government for us to remain.
He’s definitely right that neither candidate has all the answers. Nobody does. Whoever wins is going to be trying to lead us through the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, whilst trying to rebuild our tattered worldwide standing.
But after eight years to finally hear, the “the thing with feathers”* again…that is what is inspiring so many, and what I believe will make this a watershed election.
It’s going to be an interesting 48 hours. My son, who is three years away from being able to cast his own ballot, asked that I wait till he get home from school to vote so that he could pull the lever for Obama. He’s been coming to the polls with me ever since he can remember, and even spent time poll standing for Ned Lamont back in 2006 at the grand old age of 13. He offered Dunkin’ Munchkins to voters on a bipartisan basis. The kid really knew how to reach across the aisle. Son was quite crestfallen when I informed him that there are no longer levers to pull with the newfangled optical scanning machines. Nonetheless, I will wait for him to be there with me when I cast my vote, because he’s passionate in his support for Senator Obama, and I want him to feel a part of this historic election, even if he’s not old enough to vote himself.
*Hope by Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
