Dottie is no longer waiting for the Great Pumpkin

Now that the election is over this blog will likely become less politically centered in the coming months. Each year around this time I watch the It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. And each year I empathize with poor Linus. He has faith in something he has never seen. But he is sincere and believes to even doubt for a second that he will come, would make the Great Pumpkin never come to the pumpkin patch. And although other kids laugh and he misses out on the Halloween party and the trick-or-treating he stays and he believes. That’s how I have always felt about politics. I believe in the will of good men. I believe that America is a good and just country. My paternal grandfather from my father’s limited memories of him was a bit of a scoundrel but no one would dare say he was a lost cause. People would just shake their heads and say, “He’s a good boy. He’s just mislead.” And that is how I feel about America. It’s an amazing country but it is just misled. So I’m hoping that now that the Great Pumpkin aka Barack Obama has come to bring treats and love and hopefully a healthy economy to all the good little boys and girls that believed in him, that we won’t be proven fools. Those who know me personally know my love life has been like the U.S. Government been comedic in its ridiculous failures. And for most of the two years that Barack Obama has been running his courtship of me the voter has reminded me of my romantic relationships. When I first saw him four years ago, I thought he had something. But he seemed to being going steady with the state of Illinois and the U.S. Senate so I didn’t really think it would go anywhere. Then I started seeing him around and I thought he was smart and funny and he started flirting with me. He took an interest in the things I liked i.e. healthcare reform, women’s rights, an end to the war and Iraq. So I started talking my friends’ ears off about him. “Do you think he’ll run for president?” and “Didn’t he look cute today?” And “Do you think he cares about a black woman in Utah the reddest state in the union?” My friends assured me he was interested in me and I should flirt back. So after he declared his candidacy for the presidency I gave him a $20 donation. Nothing too big, I didn’t want him to think I’m easy. I don’t give money to everybody. John Kerry and I did the “will they or won’t they” dance for six months before I gave him any money. And I only did it with him once and it wasn’t really all that good. But Barack started sending me emails and a sign for my yard and assorted other presents, mostly with his picture or name on them. What can I say? I like my men arrogant. You know like the kind of man who thinks he is qualified to be the most powerful man in the world. Now at this point if he was a potential boyfriend and not a political candidate he would have started seeing someone else, or told me he wasn’t interested in me, or just started ignoring me. But our relationship continued. He’d email me. I’d campaign a little for him. He’d do something to make me smile like trounce Hillary in a primary, and I’d send him another donation. Finally I’d met a man who was interested in my hopes and dreams and my fondest desires for a better world. And now I’m quite certain that we’re going to be a thing for a good long while. I sat around like Linus for my entire adult life waiting for my own Great Pumpkin, a man who actually understands me. And he actually showed up. I will no longer need my own blue blanket, liquor and feigned cynicism. But when it comes to cynicism I believe what George Carlin said, “Scratch any cynic and you’ll find a disappointed idealist.” Scratch and sniff me, I smell like Pumpkin.