From “All of Me” : “Why not take all of me … Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry … How can I ever make it without you?”
Have you noticed something’s missing? It’s not so much fun to see Obama anymore. He’s not quite as pretty. Or as young. Or as smooth talking. Where did all those “uhhhhs” come from? Damned if he doesn’t sound scared…hesitant. And he looks tired. Haunted.
Could it be he’s missing his scintillating blonde other half? Her experience plus his fresh face made a satisfying, sufficient whole.
There are a few factors at work. First, the obvious one. Color. I said Color. Not race. Race has nothing to do with this. Race is real, color is illusion. We’re talking about illusion. Put a woman in a black dress, black shoes, black hat … the works. Got ‘er? Somber, right? Funereal. No fun in her. Put a white stripe around the brim of that hat, and she’s dramatic, sophisticated. Now you can take her anywhere.
Stand Obama on a street corner. Good-looking guy, but no partricualr pizzazz. Put the blonde chick on his arm, we all take notice.
It’s not race. It’s contrast. He was pure, she was tainted. Now that she’s gone, we can see his past only looked white compared to her black one. Now he’s the one who has to fight off accusations of taking money, of hanging around with the bad boys, of being what they both are, a politician. Compared to Hill’s grab for power over our lives, his looked mild. Now he’s closing in. His wife says he’s not going to leave us alone, he’s going to get us to see it his way. That’s just what the blonde said, isn’t it? His flight instructor is gone. He’s going solo, flying high. Higher than she ever did.
There’s more. We didn’t have to worry about his innocence when we saw him on stage with Hill. Big Mommy was there to more than make up for it. To whip him when he stepped out of line, to chastise him when he got silly. We were always on his side, but that was because someone else was there to take him in hand. We didn’t have to do it. Now he’s out on his own, doing his deals, taking on his people, making grandiose promises he can’t fulfill. We want to yell STOP! But he can’t hear us. Where’s that Mommy he used to have with him everywhere? Call her!
But a lot of you don’t care. You see it, but you refuse to acknowledge that there’s something less exciting, less assuring, less compelling in Barack without the blonde lady by his side. There was strength in their battle. Security in their embrace. We had it all. You don’t want to give it up. You’ll ignore what doesn’t fit your pretty picture. You’re not so crazy about Barack anymore, but you want Change, baby, Change. CHANGE!
Do you? Be honest. Aren’t things going good for you personally right now, whether you hate W or not? When you look around, aren’t most of the people you know doing well? And the ones that you’re worried about, are they complaining? Their TV screens are as big as yours, their clothes are snappy, everybody’s looking goddamn good. Yes, some people have fallen off the train. So put them back on. Don’t dismantle the track!
I’m going to whisper this, because I don’t think you can take it full blast: change is not always for the best.
Woo! Did you hear what he said? Stuff his mouth with socks. Make him shut the hell up. We want CHANGE! CHANGE! CHANGE!
None of you have ever watched The Twilight Zone? You haven’t met the devil there, in any of his many guises? You didn’t learn to read the whole contract? It’s in the small print, what sort of change you get. We have some poor, yes. But change could mean we all become poorer than the poorest of them. You think they’ll thank you for that? Our entire house of cards could collapse if we start shuffling them around. The world is in a bad way internationally, but we all know it could get much worse. Our place in it is in jeopardy, but we still hold it. The wrong kind of Change could throw it away.
You know this is true, but you want to have faith. Faith in the magic word “Change.”
Nobody ever heard these words?
“Make me a malted.”
Poof! You’re a malted.
“Oh, but I didn’t mean…”
Sorry, Buddy, you have no mouth, and someone’s already slurping you up through a straw.
