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OUR HEARTS IN OUR THROATS

November 4, 2020


No matter what happens tonight, hearts will break. Anger will erupt and, in all likelihood, violence will erupt somewhere. Maybe a lot of places.


After weeks of voting in record numbers, rallies and speeches, TV ads and Twitter take-downs, and all the drama that goes on in any election season … multiplied by about a thousand, because everything in 2020 is supersized … we're going to tune in and get the results.


They it'll be slower than normal, days or even weeks slower, because there were so many mail-in ballots this year. I know everyone is secretly hoping it will not be slow — our party will do so well, the outcome will be evident by 11 p.m. No, earlier.


Who can blame us? It really does feel like America is holding its collective breath. And no, its not a pleasant sensation. It feels like being underwater and wondering where the air is. (A Big Blue Wave? Hmmmm….)


Should the Biden ticket lose, citizens should demand to know how much foreign interference took place, how much Trump's efforts to disable the Post Office contributed, and how many American votes were suppressed by an administration that has exploited its own advantages to an appalling degree — campaigning from the White House, for instance. Among so many others.


Should the Trump ticket lose, all hell will break out.





I've asked a few people over to watch the returns tonight. Under our circumstances, this "party" will consist of no more than 10 people and will be held on our deck, where we entertained this year. Maybe we can get one more party out of it in 2020..


The weather is supposed to be clear but I've asked people to wear heavy jackets, and we'll be handing out blankets and hot soup. Also alcohol. And ordering pizza. Each couple or group needs to bring its own laptop since our cable cord isn't long enough to position our TV so everyone can see the screen.


I don't expect people to hang out long, because even with the four heaters we can supply, it'll probably be cold. But we can talk, at least. We can share the experience of letting go of the tension of this day, these last four years. I'm so exhausted I literally can't remember what it felt like not to carry this constant, heavy gray weight around, wondering if our country will be OK, and what new misfortune the next day is likely to bring.


And I'm hardly alone in that. Dread has to be one of the keywords of 2020. Sadly many of our worst nightmares have come true this year, whatever our individual politics. Our "side." of course, has suffered worse.


It's time to go light candles on the deck, heat up the soup, and hope our crazy format tonight will make this party fun. Maybe this year there'll be something to celebrate on election night. Maybe we'll even get the Big Blue Wave pollsters keep talking about.


We can only hope.



Election night 2020

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