I wish I was American. I wish I was black. I wish I was Ann Nixon Cooper. I wish I was David Plouffe.
Here and now it is Friday afternoon, at the end of a week which has floated around that surreal moment on Tuesday night when America did the right thing. Since then I have mostly been tired. Now the election is over I feel starved of my fix. No more campaigns to obsess over, only the achingly slow appointment of the key players in a new White House to satisfy my Obama habit. Until January 20th and inauguration, a speech I salivate at the prospect of, when we get to see. Yes we can....what?
Every article I have read - and at this point I feel like I have read all of them - concludes that Obama will inevitably fail to meet the impossibly high expectations. This note of realism makes me sad. I believe in Thinking Big, I believe in making the impossible possible. One can only assume that the President Elect does too. So why not meet expectations? Why not surpass them? Why not at least believe that he can?