What Now?

OK, people. We did it. We elected a president with a first-class intellect, a record of working for the little guy, and the temperament to face crises with the mature judgement that has been sadly lacking in Washington in recent years. As a bonus, he happens to be African-American, and it’s about time that barrier fell.

As we watched Wolf Blitzer declare Barack Obama the President-Elect, Keeper and I sat in silence, as did the CNN panelists who just moments before had been conducting a giddy gabfest.

It was only a few seconds before Keeper began to crow, “I told you so!” and the pundits began speculating about what the Obama presidency will look like.

But in that few moments of stunned silence, I began to cry. I cried for my country, for the mess it has become. I cried for my fellow Americans, people of color, who never thought they’d see this day. I cried for sheer joy that the long national nightmare was over.

Much has been made of the fact that for the last however many years, Americans have voted for the guy they’d like to have as a drinking buddy. Sure, George W. has that frat-boy kind of bonhomie, but I think we’ve learned that you don’t give the guy with the lampshade on his head the keys to the country and let him drive off.

Now, I certainly wouldn’t kick Obama off my barstool. In the widely distributed footage of him speaking at a charity function two weeks before the election, he revealed a sense of humor that would enliven any Happy Hour.

But the truth is, I don’t need a President to pal around with. I need a President who is applying himself to the problems we face as a country. Somebody who paid attention in college. Somebody’s who’s smarter than I am. Someone who won’t embarrass us.

I think we’ve got our man.

However, as Obama himself joked at that charity roast, he is not the Messiah. Read carefully what he said that night: “Contrary to the rumors that you’ve heard, I was not born in a manger. I was actually born on Krypton and sent here by my father, Jor-El, to save the planet Earth.”

Did you get that? He’s not the Messiah, he’s just Superman.

There is no shortage of challenges ahead for our next President. His first one will be to manage the expectations people have that he can snap his fingers and reverse our situation. After all, our entanglement in the Middle East is as old as our thirst for oil. Our financial crisis has been years in the making. And even Superman can’t stop global warming in four years.

When my tears dried on election night, I said a quick prayer for President-Elect Obama. 

May he truly be the leader we need–not Superman, but someone who can inspire us to work together to re-build our country; may he find the strength to resist the special interests that have seduced many a leader before him; may he somehow find family time to just be “Daddy.”

And please, God, don’t let the kids in the schoolyard, er, the press corps, make fun of his ears and call him “B.O.” It’s time to bring a little dignity back to the White House.