The disappointment of tube socks

On the night of the most important election of our time, I was sitting in an anonymous bar, drink in hand, enjoying the politically – charged atmosphere as a flock of people suddenly migrated past me and I was left alone thinking of Christmases past. Yes, Christmas. I’ve seen twenty-two Christmases, and for eighteen of them I’ve always asked for just one thing: an Easy Bake Oven. Mesmerized by the concept of cooking brownies and cakes with a light bulb, I’ve asked every year and every year when I thought I was getting the coveted 100-watt oven I wanted, I got socks. Eighteen Christmases later, and I’m numbed to the sting of disappointment so it no longer hurts as much when I open my package and I realize everything I hoped for was just tube socks. Now as I join the chanting, clapping and streaking mass moving out into the street to celebrate a well earned victory, I take with me my Christmas lessons that have taught me to prepare for disappointment. I wasn’t on board before, but now my heart is in it and I’m torn between hopeful and hopeless. Never before have I been so hopeful in people, and as I’m standing in a sea of supporters, I’m starting to believe that this really is our time. The mass of supporters grows and we crest the hill on Main Street, flooding the lawn of the Davis Center. I’m now cheering with them – no one is denied a high-five and the triumphant mood undulates through the night air. At the peak of the moment, though, my worries wash over me again. I wonder if all these people, as well as the rest of the country, will do what we need to do: remove this man off his pedestal, look upon him with scrutiny and hold him accountable for what he has promised. When the rally cries start again, I try not to let my inhibitions get to me. But I can’t help but wonder if the people here are celebrating a new president and the chance to turn this country around, or celebrating for no other reason than the simple pleasure of celebrating, the same way they would if the Red Sox would have won the series. There is so much excitement in the air that it’s electrifying. But soon the atmosphere dies, the cries and claps stop, there is no more celebrating and we are left alone and bewildered. What now? What comes next?We have brought ourselves this far, people, but it’s still up to us to bring ourselves further. One man can only do so much. We are on the verge of choosing our own path, of choosing our future and unless we take this chance and give it everything we have, we are destined to fail. We have a chance to take those tube socks we don’t want and turn them into the Easy Bake Oven we’ve all been asking for. Change is here. What we do with it is up to us.