Rally

Only Bill Clinton could play the racial aspects of this or any campaign. I know it’s widely understood that his intentions with the black community have always been altruistic, but I didn’t believe it. I’ve always thought him a cad. Even before the Clintons misogyny was undeniable exposed. Every woman has had experience with cads, at one time or another, and I think all of can agree that cads are more easily spotted when they’re romancing somebody else. He’s been romancing the Soul Patrol (not my expression, but I like it) forever, and exactly what has he actually done for them? Sure, he’s got at table at Silvia’s, and knows to grab a hymn book, and sway with the music, but so what? Who did he hire?

If anybody else had tried these underhanded tactics, they would have been, quite rightly, stopped at the gate. But Bill Clinton gets a pass. Or rather thinks he does. But it’s become too obvious. People, who actually believed the things that Clinton used to promote himself, are now feeling a little bit betrayed. That’s a reference to liberal white people. People with a long history of public service, not the sort to be dismissed with a well placed anonymous rumor. These are people who have worked Clinton campaigns before, and they know the nuts and bolts. Now, they feel dirty.

What about the people of color who were around for the protest marches? I mean back in the day when protest marches were interesting, and dangerous. Leaders in the black community are hesitating to join Obama, what’s that about? Al Sharpton says that just because Obama looks like him, doesn’t mean he’s his kind of people. HUH? We’re talking about Al Sharpton; a guy who came running anytime somebody said a naughty word. As much as we’d all like such hypocrites get their comeuppance, the fight for civil rights has been an industry. The soul patrol (yes, it tickles me to say that) they worry about their mortgages, the children who have come to expect a higher education. Many of these people have made a living, yes, but also a life. Their business associates, friends, wives, all came from the movement. Now what? Where are they going to go every day? What are they going to talk about? Try to imagine the heartbreak that happens, when you’ve spent forty years working towards a goal, and the realization that once that goal is reached, you become instantly redundant. Instantly, you’ve got nothing to do.

I hate rallies. The people who go tend to go to praise themselves, for nothing more than disagreeing with the government. Big whoop. I went to American University, more on principle than interest, to watch the Kennedys endorse Obama. I was only there for a few minutes, as Obama was being introduced, and a bit after, but in that short time it was obvious that this was a completely different deal. The crowd didn’t energize the speakers so much as it was the other way around.

We don’t know what it is to hear people speak anymore. We are so accustomed to the sound bite, the bumper sticker, the rolling slogans, tailored to the latest polls, that to see a proper speaker, hold a crowd in his hand, is breathtaking. When the Obama crowd started to boo Hillary Clinton’s name, and Ted Kennedy quieted them. It wasn’t aggressive just masterful.

What the Kennedys did was more than an endorsement. It was permission. Just as the Clinton campaign gave people permission to vote against somebody for the color of his skin, the Kennedys gave the voters permission to not. In doing so, they may have just rescued the Democratic Party.

The Clinton campaign has been busted for exploiting the growing pains of the people of this nation. That’s why their words are being scrutinized.

I’m the kind who watches the crowd, and watch the crowd I did. As Senator Kennedy passed the torch, people were simultaneously cheering and crying. As cynical as I am, a new day may really be dawning.

I went to lunch afterwards, in the same place patronized by supporters, some of whom didn’t make it in the room; they were outside listening on speakers. I eavesdropped as the friends mimicked each of the attending Kennedys, their words, their pitch, and their tone. With great bravado, they their eyes the size of serving platters, they regaled one another with stories of how the candidate shook their hands. Too excited to eat, they ignored their food, stomped their feet, completely unaware of their naked grins stretching from ear to buzzing ear. Those students will tell those stories, will remember that day and how they felt for years.

When was the last time anybody said that about anyone at all?