Obama and the revival of hope

I admit it - my cynicism about politics had reached a point
of disgust, even with my own party. So I hadn't paid much attention
to the Democratic Convention in Denver. We all knew the outcome.
It was all a bunch of hype to me. Especially coming on the heels of
the Summer Olympics - how could a political convention
compete with a $40 billion extravaganza?

But Victor had the TV tuned to CNN, so we stayed up to watch
Obama's historic acceptance speech.

For the first time in (literally) years, something stirred inside me.
Could it be ... hope?
It was hard to tell, the hinges were quite rusty on the door to that rare state of mind.

But it felt familiar somehow.
Yes, it might be ...
It WAS hope!

When Barack Obama finished his speech, I wished I
had been at the convention, packed like a sardine into a
stadium that was over capacity. I wished I had been in the presence
of the man who inspired in me the idealism I adopted in the 1960s.

The news has been so bad for so long. Oil wars.
Gas prices. Staggering debt to China. Food. Mortgages.
And my shame at the behavior from the White House has
forced my public patriotism underground. Even my normal
"Queen of Positivity" attitude has flagged lately.

But here in my own family room, a man of integrity (!)
and authenticity (!) and power moved me to tears.
A man from my own home state of Illinois - the
land of Lincoln, my childhood hero.

And so this morning, I know this is true:

We MUST elect this man president.
We MUST.

If he can rouse me from my jaded apathy, he
can lead our country to a place of respect again.
That respect will come not only from outside this country's borders.
I believe he can renew our nation's self respect -
something we lost along the way and need so desperately.

So - OK this is unfamiliar territory for me - I beg you
to do whatever is in your power to help elect this
man.

We need him.
I need him.
Hope is, as it turns out, a renewable resource.