I stopped in at a neighborhood bakery on my way to work this morning. It was drizzly and dark and cold and the shop glowed with light, warmth and butter, which are several key things necessary to survival besides water and pizza. And martinis. Wait no, I mean whiskey sours. Or, no, I mean beer. Anyway.
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When I asked for a croissant the cashier told me to hold on and she'd get me a warm one right out of the oven. "That's awesome!" says I.
"Not as awesome as last night's election!" she responds.
"No, that was amazing." The hours of cheering, cars honking, fireworks, starry-eyed enthusiasm. Curiouser and curiouser.
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"Did you see the paper this morning?"
When I said I hadn't she calls to the waitress to get it for me.
"We had it in the window earlier," she adds proudly.
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They unfurl the full front page photo of Obama waving to the crowds in Grant Park. My throat goes all twitchy and I find myself blurting out, "That makes me want to cry!"
They are both grinning and nodding and the man that just walked in is smiling fondly at me like we are soul mates from the beginning of time.
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All these feelings of hope, warmth, camaraderie, good cheer...it's not even Christmas, yet. Godspeed, Mr. President Obama, sir!
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