Surviving Nov. 5 - win or lose
Wednesday, Nov. 5 will be a fall day much like those that preceded it. The temperature will be cool; global warming hasn't snaked that deeply into the calendar. A day like any other, except that either Barack Obama or John McCain will be the president-elect.
As a public service, I am providing some tips for getting through Nov. 5. Emotions are high; a close race is expected. Ferociously bipartisan, I want to prepare you for either of two eventualities:
Outcome A: He loses.
You know who He is. He is The One. He trampled a popular and talented rival in the Democratic primary, and there was a time when it seemed that His party could nominate a ham sandwich and wrest the White House from the wildly unpopular incumbent. But nothing in life is certain. He could lose.
The concession speech, of course, will be a classic example of soaring oratory.
What will we tell the children?
What will we tell the French?
You will want to have your usual excuses at hand: Don't blame me, I'm from Massachusetts. Oh, well, even if he had won, the Supreme Court would have stolen the election anyway. The media never reported on the real issues at stake; all they cared about was Sarah Palin's cool eyeglass frames. America just wasn't ready for a black president. And so on.
The central press will be crestfallen. The New York Review of Books will publish on black crepe paper for a month. The New York Post will be the Great Exception, and will feast on the Palin vice presidency like a vulture gobbles carrion. "Alaska Hillbillies Storm Capital" is only one of the trailer-park-theme headlines we can expect to see.
Like Radio Moscow after the death of a Soviet leader, NPR will suspend its audio chatfests, and play funeral marches 24 hours a day.
Woody Allen, Steven Spielberg, Alec Baldwin - they'll have to take sabbaticals. Their creative life force will be depleted.
I would advise staying away from the TV. Fox News will be crowing, in full throat. Sean Hannity will be performing a video sack dance, perhaps anticipating his appointment to the McCain-Palin Ministry of Carefully Vetted Information.
You'll be thumb-tapping the remote as if it were a BlackBerry: Must have left-wing agitprop! Where's Keith Olbermann? He'll be at home, curled up in the fetal position, nursing a monthlong catatonic depression.
You will ask yourself: How could it happen? Has the country gone mad? And then you remember about all those other Americans, the ones who go to church while you are poring over those fascinating essays in the Week in Review, the ones who don't understand why children can't recite the Pledge of Allegiance in schools anymore. The ones who don't think Sarah Palin is a total moron. Them.
They voted.
Curse them.
Then maybe you should go back to bed.
Outcome B: He wins.
Admittedly, this will be a lot easier on the kids.
And a lot easier for the TV networks, which can gas on and on about the "historical significance," the "epochal turnaround," "the end of racism," etc., etc. Even Hillary Clinton will have to crawl out of her hole to make a brief, grudging, congratulatory appearance.
The acceptance speech, of course, will be a classic example of soaring oratory.
In Massachusetts, it will be a de facto school holiday, like when the Red Sox win the World Series. Everyone will claim to have voted for Him, because - really - who's to know? It will provide an unusual opportunity for Governor Patrick to bask in some glory. Reflected glory, to be sure, but any glory will be a welcome break in the clouds. He can reasonably expect to be appointed to the new Cabinet post of Commissar of Ineffectual Rhetoric and Six-Figure Book Deals in the Obama administration.
My advice: Don't be smug. Keep the gloating (e.g.: "For this first time in my life, I am really proud to be an American") out of your Christmas letter. It might fall into the hands of the GOP. Sooner or later, they will return to power. And believe me, they have access to your tax return.
Whoever wins, McCain or Obama, we can rest assured that our long national nightmare is coming to an end. And a new one is just beginning.
Alex Beam is a Globe columnist. His e-dress is beam@globe.com. 