All I really need to say is thank god I was wrong. I’m a firm believer, especially as I’m now residing in the land where voodoo, or a local variation of it, is a legitimate political philosophy, that one should not be too optimistic about these things
I’m a pessimist but I’m also hopeful.
I’m hopeful that Obama will have the foresight and wisdom to invite all the Clintons to his inauguration, but most of whom George, who will then be persuaded to perform the original version of Paint The White House Black (or Chocolate City as it’s more correctly called) as the song’s been thirty years in the wings waiting for this very moment.
We went to an American expat gathering in Sanur to watch the flag go down on eight years of Republican hell. It was a fairly uncontroversial gathering – a straw poll (anonymous) gave Obama one hundred and something votes to one, and the appropriated named organiser, Jack Daniels, wisely advised the lone Repug to keep very quiet.
That, of course was hardly a surprise, since, from personal observation, Republicans rarely travel unless they are a) posted places by big corporations, or b) in the army. Hell, most don’t leave their county I’d imagine.
The two hired Indonesians dressed as Uncle Sam, on stilts, really looked the part. I’m just not sure what part it was supposed to be.
It was all going rather well – the food was overpriced but OK and the beers were even more ludicrously priced but try as we might we couldn’t win any thing in the raffle, aside from two very un-American Heineken towels – until they announced the CNN forecast of an Obama slam.
This was followed by a very loud rendition of Hail To The Chief which seemed odd since the chief was nowhere to be hailed, either in Sanur or in Chicago at that stage. And then the speakers roared out The Boss. Born in the USA came rattling out of the PA at deafening levels and the bloke next to us, who I think was European rather than American screamed out something that sounded like hallelujah and burst into tears.
Bruce, evocations to the almighty, and tears – it was all too much and I decided I’d pass on the reduced ($7.50) Obama ’08 t‑shirt on sale. They gave me an official Obama/Biden badge instead which was fine and will go well with my, keep-the-Marxists-together, Mao t‑shirt from Shanghai.
The chap from Europe was happy. We all, bar the lone Republican in hiding (we think it was Tom, who sells grossly overpriced ‘antiques’ on the Bypass), were.
And then, with some timing, the AV guys decided to fine tune the CNN feed as Obama was about to hit the stage. A flurry of hands at the guys, not least from the distraught guy next door to us who was about to miss his moment. And it came back on, with a red tint – which seemed out of place this late in the game.
The guy next door shouted out series of whoops and Obama wandered on and said his, very impressive bit before handing back to Wolf Blizter. The Indonesians dressed as Uncle Sam wondered what it was all about. Tom from the Bypass looked depressed and Jack Daniels said it was time to party, but being midday we thought it was time to leave.
I’m very happy.