Fantasy is Reality

Shout out to my fellow bloggers who have kept the computers putin but it's been over a week and I think I am finally ready to talk about the election.

I'm not here to gloat, nor rub a little extra salt in the wound for the five McCain supporters who read this blog. Ironically, I'm here to talk about how speechless I've been.

We've all fantasized about something. Whether it's money, finding that special someone, or achieving something incredible, we all try to plan out our reaction. 

Two episodes come to mind as I dig through the archives. First, meeting my pops when I was 13. I planned to be really angry, tell him about all the missed birthdays and achievements. Instead, we traded jokes, told stories, and--with my mom there to share the moment--felt the closest I've ever been to having a "nuclear" family. 

I also remember a moment the following year in tenth grade (your boy had smarts!). I had a "Doug" moment and completely botched asking this girl out. I planned it out in my mind, swagger was at a solid 175, and did everything but write a speech, but in the moment I could not find the right words.

The day after the election, I called my Grandma to get her reaction. My grandma came to the United States in the 60s, witnessing progress and brutality, so I wanted to know if she thought she would ever see a day when the President would be darker than she is. 

"No sah, never thought I would live fi see dis."

Funny thing is, I never thought I would either. A part of our fantasies that make them so wonderful is this feeling that reality is suspended. Fantasies are our treasure. Doesn't need to make sense or compromise with our shortcomings. They can just be.

So given this, how could I find the words when on Nov. 4th, the fantasies of formerly enslaved people, a dream for millions who would never live to see it realized, broke the "rules" and became reality? 

In spite of all my planned proclamations, and dreams of running in the streets, I was left pleased and utterly speechless.

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