Hope, for a change

It’s no surprise that I had no patience with the “We’re the Ones We’ve Been Waiting For” mantra of Obama,  version 2008. The crowds that fell for that almost mystical, transcendental message and adored the messenger seemed a little kooky to this rosary-clinging, gun-slinging chick.

And yet,  I’ve come to realize that even the sanest among us (and that ain’t exactly me) can be overwhelmed with emotion when the stars are aligned correctly and you believe in the man and the meaning.

That happened to me last night at the Romney rally in Bucks County.  The night was frigid, the crowds monumental, and the comfort level nil.  It didn’t help that I’d walked a mile and a half to get to the rally site, and then waited in line for about two hours, before waiting another two hours  for the candidate to show up.  And my ankle, more twisted than Sandra Fluke’s reasoning, throbbed in pain.

And yet, I didn’t mind any of that.  Buoyed by a crowd of all colors, ages and at least two genders, I realized that there were some people in the Delaware Valley who weren’t  brainwashed into believing that the stagnant economy, the national security fiascos (Libya, Syria, Iran, Israel) and the attacks on religious freedom were okay.  There were still some of us who were indeed hopeful of change, and that change was in the form of a moral and competent businessman named Mitt Romney.

It really was an electric evening, one of those times when you feel lifted up toward something bigger than yourself.  It felt wonderful.

And even when I realized I was acting like Obama Girl on Red Bull, it didn’t matter.  For one brief shining moment, I too felt that we were the ones we’d been waiting (four hours) for.