Years of Poems and Spirits

Every once in a while, I will have a Voila! moment when several discrete things all come together and a puzzle suddenly makes perfect sesne.

A while back when Katie Couric asked Palin what newspaper she read. She gave a very awkward and discursive answer. While I laughed at her with others, deep down, it didn’t make sense. Obviously, she read something. She is not the most intelligent person there is but she can’t possibly become who she is without reading anything. Later on, she explained to Lauer that she felt trapped by that question, as if “whatever I say will get me into trouble”.

Her explanation didn’t make sense to me: why the fuss? Just tell Couric anything, how could that have hurt? And many people felt the same way. But we all let it go. What is the big deal, after all.

But the epiphany came to me today. I came across a video of her giving an interview in Alaska. As she was recounting her VP experience and her renewed Alaskan family life, a guy was seen in the background stuffing a turkey–kicking and twisting–down a slaughter machine. As if that wasn’t enough, the guy was shaking and swaying with the bird (to drain blood?) as if in front of a urinal. What is worse, she was said to be there to perform the pre-Thanksgiving turkey pardon.

Then it suddenly hit me: no wonder she is so self-conscious of being trapped by journalists–from where she comes, the level of sensitivity and sophistication is just not there! Although Alaska is one of the highest per capita state of the most powerful nation in the world, it is still a very primitive place. Life’s challenge is still physical and perception of the ambient is largely visceral (Norbert Elias vs. Moose). She must be aware of that. No wonder she over-reacted, no wonder some Alaskan felt misunderstood by the lower-forty-eighters.

Had the economic crisis begun a couple of month late, she could have been our VP. It was as if Queen Sheba came to Israel, and stayed!

I don’t know why I still waste time on her. But the sense of discovery is quite intoxicating, I guess. Also, maybe one day I will look back at the last campaign and re-live the drama through things like this.

Decided on which one is my favorite kayak–Ikkuma by Seda. Tried it a couple of years ago at NWOC, it was love at first sight. Very sleek, pretty fast, good balance of stability and maneuverability. The hull is pretty narrow so it gives you a body-hugging feeling. Flipping the paddle was never more fun in this one.

Didn’t touch it for another year or two. Last week there was one sunny day with full fall foliage along the river/lake/lock banks. So I stopped by NWOC and they gave me (from a large pile) this one again! The itching sensation returned the moment I slided in.

A new one costs $3500. Yuk. Still it is rare for me to devote to just one thing without any reservation …  I guess I should write this done just to commend myself.

Like so many times before when I was witnessing history in the making (6.4, 9.11), I missed the precise moment when it happened.

When the electoral vote count scrolled cross 270, I was getting a lousy beer in the kitchen. When I came out, people are jumping, dogs barking and kisses and hugs and all that shit.

For the last 12 month, I felt like riding in a canoe on a rough sea . He was my choice and his success and failure felt so much more “real” to me than any other electoral events. Whenever arguing for him, either online or face to face, there was always a sense of dread and desperation that he could be marginalized by the great silent American majority.

And how much the mass has been tempted: first it was a name-brand politician seemed to have everything–a faux promise, a faux competency, a faux “historical first” and even a faux marriage. Next it was a great war hero that I could never learn to hate. After that it was a sweet little bitch who appeals not only to the fanatics but also the subconscious longings of a romantic Americanism amongst the common. Besides the main antagonists are all kinds of colorful characters: Jessie “the Nut Cutter” Jackson, Rev. Wright, Joe “the Big Mouth” Biden and a whinning Bill Clinton.

It was not until the financial crisis did the scale finally tipped. On the one hand, I felt quite unsettled that it took a crisis of this magnitude to change the majority’s perception. On the other, however, a close victory keeps the victor humble and driven.

Regardless, this is a wonderful night. When Obama gave his speech of the night, a couple next to me were quietly sobbing. I know how they feel. Historical moments are often remembered with a singularly strong emotion attached to it. Whenever I recall 6.4 or 9.11, I felt anger and vengence. But this is a night I’d always remember with a sense of vindication, joy and hope.