Election Day 2008

For political junkies, a presidential Election Day is like Christmas. It’s like the Superbowl for sports fans; it’s like the Tony Awards for the gays.

This is it.

As we’ve gotten closer to today, I’ve measured the days like I usually do when I anticipate big events:

The election is in 23 days… what was I doing 23 days ago?

The election is in 15 days… what was I doing 15 days ago?

The first polls close in 47 hours… what was I doing 47 hours ago?

Ever since the last presidential debate, my emotions have gone from optimism, to fear and anxiety, back to optimism, and finally to giddiness. I kept waiting for something bad to happen. I kept waiting for the polls to tighten. As the day got closer, I kept thinking, What are they holding back? and, Is [event X] going to be the thing that turns people back toward McCain? This past weekend I could focus on almost nothing else but the election.

It’s been 12 years since we’ve had a presidential election that did not appear to be a tossup. The last time the presidential candidates actually spoke on Election Night was in 1996 — Clinton vs. Dole.

The next two election nights gave me agita. I’m not sure which was worse — 2000 or 2004. The first was nerve-wracking; the second was just depressing.

And now it’s 2008, and I feel hopeful about a presidential election for the first time in years.

And this got me unexpectedly choked up.

I don’t want to jinx it… but tonight should be one for the history books.

Road Show

Last night we saw a preview of Road Show, the Sondheim musical, at the Public Theater. Road Show has been bouncing around for more than 10 years as Sondheim has tweaked and revised it, under the names Wise Guys, Gold, Brotherhood, and Bounce, but it has never made it to Broadway.

Just before the lights went down, who slipped into the end of the row right behind us?

The master himself — Stephen Sondheim.

I couldn’t believe it. Stephen Sondheim is sitting in the row right behind us, I thought. We’re at a Sondheim musical and Sondheim is here.

And this was not a big theater.

I’m surprised Matt remained calm — Sondheim is a god to him. And by the eyes of the people around us, I could tell we weren’t the only ones who realized we were in The Presence.

Then the show began, and we watched it and enjoyed it. It was 1 hour and 45 minutes, with no intermission.

At the end of the show, Sondheim and his colleague got up from the seats. They’d been sitting right next to the door to the emergency exit, so they decided to unobtrusively slip out that way. But an usher ran over and yelled at them, “Excuse me! Excuse me! You can’t go out that way!” Everyone turned to look.

There was some general low-key conferring as Sondheim explained to the woman who he was. The doors closed behind all three of them, and then we and everyone around us burst out laughing.

As we reached the end of our row and made our way up the aisle, the usher reappeared from the emergency exit door. Several of us smiled at her as if to share in the hilarity, but she had a pissed-off, defensive look on her face. “I’m not lettin’ people out that door,” she said. “I don’t care who you are.”

Matt and I continued walking up the aisle and I said softly, to no one in particular, “I don’t care if you’re Stephen Sondheim!”

Write to Marry Day

Write to Marry Day

Today is Write to Marry Day.

I’ve already written about Prop 8 in California, and how important it is for Californians to vote “No” in order to protect the right of same-sex couples to get married.

Two big fears of the anti-marriage crowd right now appear to be that (1) same-sex marriage violates freedom of religion, and (2) teachers will be required to teach little kids about gay people.

Regarding the point about freedom of religion: Andy convincingly shows why this argument is wrong.

I would add that religious groups in this country have always had to deal with secular laws that might discriminate against them. This is not a new thing. “[R]eligious entities have no right under the First Amendment’s Religion Clauses to avoid neutral, generally-applicable anti-discrimination laws,” according to this commentary. These things have a way of being worked out in courts and legislatures. Yes, a religious organization might be sued, but the threat of a lawsuit in and of itself does not mean that your rights are being denied.

Regarding the second point, about children: I will never understand the fears about children being exposed to the concept of homosexuality. When little kids learn about Prince Charming and Cinderella, do they hop into bed and start fucking each other? No. Do Disney movies or fairy tales about couples living “happily ever after” teach them about penises and vaginas? No.

Anyway, kids tend to be curious about penises and vaginas on their own, since every kid has one or the other. Kids want to know about their equipment. It’s the parents who are afraid to talk about it.

Certain ignorant people think that homosexuality is contagious. That’s ridiculous. I didn’t “learn to be gay” from gay people. I didn’t even know any gay people growing up. Almost every gay person grows up with straight parents and is surrounded by straight couples, and yet still turns out to be gay.

Why don’t they look at the Massachusetts education system and see what’s happening there, instead of just tossing around fear and hysteria?

Aw, enough. I’m preaching to the choir. Just get out and vote “No” on Prop 8 on Tuesday if you’re a Californian, and donate money if you haven’t already, whether you’re a Californian or not.

John Adams

Over the weekend I finished watching John Adams, the seven-part HBO miniseries that won a ton of Emmys this year (and got nominated for several more). The big networks never show anything like this anymore; when was the last time a major network (ABC, CBS, NBC) showed even a single two-hour made-for-TV movie? Thank goodness for HBO.

If you’re an American history buff, you’ll love this. Because it’s about eight hours long, the series takes its time with John Adams’s life, lingering over his time in Paris and Amsterdam and London as well as in Boston, Philadelphia, New York, and Washington. The amount of period detail is wonderful — you can smell and taste the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Dirt, sweat, smallpox, scratchy colonial wigs. The Founders seem so elegant and elite to us, but we live in luxury compared to them. Imagine having to take a break from writing the Constitution to go use the outhouse. Imagine having to sail across the Atlantic Ocean to Europe when you’ve spent your whole life in the northeastern American colonies, and being completely cut off from your family. (I read a biography of Adams last year, and that was the idea that amazed me most.)

Paul Giamatti and (especially) Laura Linney, as John and Abigail Adams, are terrific. We watch them grow old together (and sometimes apart).

During the episode where the Continental Congress debates whether or not declare independence, Matt asked me when they would start singing.

Okay, maybe I made that part up.

Anyway, this is a great series and I highly recommend it.

New York Times Presidential Endorsements

The New York Times has endorsed Barack Obama (big surprise).

What’s really cool is that the Times has also posted links to all its presidential endorsements, going back to Abraham Lincoln in 1860:

We have great confidence in his pacific and conciliatory disposition. He seems to us much more likely to be too good-natured and tolerant towards his opponents, than not enough so. Rail-splitting is not an exciting occupation. It does not tend to cultivate the hot and angry passions of the heart. It is much less stimulating in this direction than the business of overseer on a slave plantation. It teaches a man to strike heavy blows, and to plant them just where they are needed — but he learns, also, to deal them only when they are needed.

Tidbits: the Times endorsed FDR’s opponent, Wendell Willkie, in 1940. (It endorsed FDR in 1932 and 1936 and again in 1944.) It endorsed Republicans in 1948, 1952 and 1956; since then, it’s endorsed the Democrat every time.

Consecutive Best Musicals

As regular readers of my blog know, I’m into weird statistics.

Well, it turns out that right now there are six consecutive Tony Award winners for Best Musical playing on Broadway: Hairspray (2003), Avenue Q (2004), Spamalot (2005), Jersey Boys (2006), Spring Awakening (2007), and In the Heights (2008). I wonder if this is a record? I’m talking about original productions that have won Best Musical, not revivals of shows that originally won Best Musical or productions that won Best Revival.

Anyway, the current situation is going to last only until January, when Hairspray, Spamalot, and Spring Awakening all close.

Balance

Hilarious:

As Mr. McCain enters this closing stretch, his aides — as well as some outside Republicans and even a few Democrats — argue that he still has a viable path to victory…

Mr. McCain’s advisers said the key to victory was reeling back those Republican states where Mr. Obama has them on the run: Florida, where Mr. McCain spent Thursday; Indiana; Missouri; North Carolina; Ohio; and Virginia.

Oh, gee, is that all?

If he can hang on to all those states as well as others that are reliably red, he would put into his column 260 of the 270 electoral votes necessary to win.

*would spit coffee, if I drank coffee*

They need to do all of that and it doesn’t even get them to 270?

Mr. McCain’s advisers said they would look for the additional electoral votes they need either by taking Pennsylvania from the Democrats, or putting together some combination of Colorado, Nevada, New Hampshire and New Mexico.

It’s so sweet of the Times to try and provide balance.

Worried About Prop 8

I’m really worried that California Prop 8 will pass on November 4, writing marriage discrimination into the California constitution. Election Night could be bittersweet in California, as Obama wins but marriage equality loses. The polls right now don’t look good.

If Prop 8 passes, then same-sex marriage rights in California are gone for good — unless the U.S. Supreme Court someday rules on the issue, or future California voters someday amend the state constitution in the other direction.

I don’t live in California, of course, but I know at least one couple who does, and there are more than 100,000 others.

I don’t know what to do, other than donate money. I was reluctant to donate, because I thought, what can my own little contribution do?

But I’ve decided I have to donate to this. I’ve never donated to a political cause before. I didn’t even donate to Obama, although I thought about it last spring.

But this cannot pass.

My contribution alone won’t affect things, but combined with the contributions of others, it might.

Please donate to help defeat Prop 8. I just did.

Most Obscure President

Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I list all the U.S. presidents in order of service.

Last night I was wondering, who is the most obscure U.S. president? The one that nobody remembers?

I have my choice, which might not be shared by everyone, since I know a lot about the presidents.

My first instinct is to say Millard Fillmore. But it can’t be him, because he’s the stereotypical obscure president. If asked to name an obscure president, everyone would name Fillmore. He’s known for being obscure. Therefore, paradoxically, it can’t be him.

It can’t be 20th-century president, because they’re all too familiar to us.

It can’t be any president who was assassinated or died in office, because they’re remembered for that exact reason. So William Henry Harrison, James Garfield, and William McKinley are out. Harrison had the shortest presidency — about a month — but he’s remembered for that very reason.

It can’t be any of the Founding Father presidents — except maybe James Monroe. But the Monroe Doctrine is named after him. So while he’s a good candidate for most obscure, he’s not ideal.

It might be Rutherford B. Hayes, except that eight years ago, everyone was comparing the Bush-Gore deadlock to the Hayes-Tilden deadlock that ended up in the Supreme Court. So he’s out.

James Buchanan is typically ranked as one of the worst presidents, so he has a reason to be remembered. It can’t be Buchanan.

Franklin Pierce came just before Buchanan; while he’s one of the most obscure, he still gets paired with Buchanan a lot. So it’s not Pierce.

For me it comes down to two presidents, but one has a slight edge. The second-most obscure, I think, is Chester A. Arthur, who took over after Garfield was assassinated. Few people seem to remember President Arthur. But the thing that holds him back from being most obscure is that he’s one of the “bearded presidents,” the presidents of the Gilded Age, who all seem to run together. When looking for obscure presidents, people often look to this group. So Arthur has a disadvantage similar to that of Millard Fillmore.

My ultimate choice for most obscure U.S. president?

John Tyler.

Why Tyler, especially since his name is part of a famous political slogan — “Tippecanoe and Tyler Too”?

I don’t know. I just always forget about him.

First, he has such an ordinary name. John Tyler. He could be the guy across the street.

Tyler became president when William Henry Harrison died. It was the first time a vice president had taken over, and people didn’t know what to call him at first. Acting President? Vice President, but with presidential duties? Or just plain President? He became President Tyler, and ever since, all presidents who took office due to the death of another have assumed the full powers of the office.

Harrison had been a Whig, but Tyler was a Whig in name only. He was really a Democrat at heart, and he only became a Whig in order to be named as Harrison’s running mate. (Harrison, who was from Ohio, named Tyler, a Virginian, to help balance the ticket between North and South.) After Tyler became president, he went back on everything the Whigs wanted.

John Tyler: my choice for most obscure U.S. president.

NBC Election Night 1992

Here’s some of NBC’s Election Night coverage in 1992, projecting that Bill Clinton has won the presidency.

Quite a time warp. Katie Couric with really dark hair and makeup (at about five minutes in); John Chancellor, still alive; and Tim Russert. Lots of prescience — talking about the new “electronic” ways that politicians could communicate with the people, a year before the first web browser would come into use; the idea that Clinton and Gore could be in office until the millennium; a new generation of people taking over Washington.

All this heady optimism after 12 years of Republican rule. What a great time it was. (The analogy to our hopes today is too obvious…)

Short Election Night?

Not to get complacent, but I’ve been thinking about this and apparently some journalists have as well: if Obama wins Virginia on Election Night, it could be a short night. Virginia polls close at 7 p.m. Eastern time. All the Kerry states plus Virginia’s 13 electoral votes adds up to 265; since Iowa is apparently in the bag already, that brings Obama to 272. Which doesn’t even count the likely Colorado and New Mexico.

The downside is that if everyone sees that Obama is the likely winner, it could affect turnout in downballot races. That creates a news dilemma.

But again… complacent is the last thing we should be right now. Anything can still happen.