Come around for tea
Dance me round and round the kitchen
By the light of my TV
On the night of the election
Ancient stars will fall into the sea
And the ocean floor sings her sympathy
I usually don’t quote other people’s song lyrics, but this Bic Runga song is going through my head. We’re watching the election results. My girlfriend is drinking tea. We’re not dancing around the kitchen, though, or anywhere else for that matter. And it’s not our TV, since we don’t get any channels at home. But ancient stars and ocean floor – there’s something historic about tonight. Super Tuesday, 2008.
I’ve never been so keyed up about an election, so inspired by a candidate, so excited to vote for him. Co-workers are talking about how this reminds them of 1960 and 1968, years before I was born. Everywhere I go, people sense that this is an important time.
Meanwhile, CNN is saying inane things, trying to keep people’s interest while polls close and counts roll in. Commercials are telling me to live life passionately and buy strange headache remedies. It’s jarringly incongruous.