Election 2020 Diary

Election Day One 8:00 AM

I start my day by reading the roundup of late night comedy. Last night Jimmy Kimmel said, "The best way to describe how I'm feeling right now -- it's somewhere between Christmas Eve and the night before a liver transplant." I miss my sense of humor, which went packing in November 2016. I must depend on the humor of others. I have had glimmers of humor around the edges. I have faith it will return.

8:15

Store fronts in major cities are boarded up to prevent looting. Residents have stocked up on food and are hunkering down. Here in my small town in NorCal there is nothing more wrong than has already been wrong for the past four years. But seeing pictures of the boarded-up windows in DC, I feel like I am living in someone else's country in another time.

 

8:30

It’s on, voting is happening. I have fortunately survived these four years. Not everyone has. I vividly recall the horror of Election Night 2016; the rage, the grief, and the heart-stopping vision of what was to come. I sat in my husband’s lap and asked him to hold me and I wept in his arms. The night after the 2016 election, some friends came to my house for our monthly book group. One of them brought her 20-something daughter. The young woman is an environmental protection activist and deeply aware of the dangers ahead because of climate chaos. She baked an election cake the day before to celebrate our first woman president. When they came into the house for the book group, she carried the cake, uncut. I took the cake from her, handed it to her mother, and embraced her as I said, “I’m so sorry for you and all the young people.” We wept in one another’s arms. Last night I dreamt that she came to visit me riding a magnificent charcoal horse.

 

9:00

I go for my daily walk behind Lake Mendocino where I take my thoughts into the wild. My beloved NorCal is burning up in climate chaos. Will today’s election results restart the process of making the changes needed for a viable future for humans on Earth? It may already be too late for the trees and other living creatures in my beloved homeland.

 

11:30

I try to concentrate on work. It will take days to count the votes, and there will be no result by tonight.

 

12:00 Noon

The brightest, shiniest moment was when we found out Obama had won in 2008. Oh what a night. I had friends in the house and we were watching Jon Stewart. He said Obama had taken Ohio and that put him over the top for a win. We didn’t know if that was true or not because it was The Daily Show, so we flipped the channel to MSNBC and sure enough, Obama had won for real. My phone rang at that instant and it was my husband Ron who was in Chicago with his family. He was calling to celebrate that Obama had won. I burst into tears. Couldn’t speak. I heard his relatives whooping in the background, Black folks who grew up in poverty in the ghetto. Descendants of slaves who endured centuries of oppression in this cursed country. He asked me, “Are you crying, baby?” and I was speechless, could barely squeak out a yes. Each of my children called, so excited, talking a mile a minute in their new future. My friends at my house were on their cell phones with their children. The exhilaration we felt! When I think of that night now, I want to cry for all we have lost and all that has been taken from our children in the past four years. Can we please begin to climb out of this pit?

 

2:00

I finish a conference call for work. It was a welcome distraction. No one mentioned the election or the disastrous state of the nation. We focused on the project before us and left the planet to its own devices for a short time.

 

2:15

I’m thinking positive thoughts and practicing patience. It’s going to be an excruciating week. We are not a patient nation.

 

2:30

It’s a clear and sunny autumn day. The birds hop in the bottlebrush tree outside the window of my study. There is a breeze, which is not good at this time of year in this dry land at the end of summer in the place where I live. If a spark of stray fire catches, it could burn down a town. Yet everything looks so normal. It feels a bit like the placid scene in a sci-fi thriller right before the aliens arrive and start offing people. I check the online news and read that Typhoid Donny has formally started the process of pulling the U.S. out of the Paris Climate Accord. He has no shame. Biden says he’ll put us straight back into the Accord on Day One if he wins. The Accord is essentially just a promise to set and reach a goal, but I want that promise. Bring the promise, Biden.

 

3:00

Polls close in FL and GA in one hour. Will this be a nail-biter or not? The ground moves beneath my feet as I feel the 2016 Election PTSD creep in.

 

3:30

Puerto Rico is voting about whether to become a state. Why would anywhere want to join this dysfunctional nation? All we did for Puerto Rico is nothing. It got devastated by a hurricane and Typhoid Donny said “not my problem.”

 

4:00

Results are starting to come in but there is not enough information to figure anything out. I keep reading things Republicans have done to try to subvert the election process. Setting up false ballot drop-off boxes, running Democratic voter convoys off the road, going to court to prevent mailed-in ballots from being counted, making threatening robocalls to voters, and urging followers (i.e., white supremacists) to harass and threaten Democratic voters (i.e., black voters) in any way they can, including by pointing guns at them. I don’t understand the mindset, the internal narrative that can justify these things for these people. They drank the Kool-Aid and can no longer distinguish right from wrong. How do they live with themselves after doing things like cheering for the separation of children from their parents at the border or the push to put ACB on the Supreme Court? (They should have called the push to confirm ACB “Project Warp Speed.” What kind of childish idiot calls any government project “Warp Speed”?) Moscow Mitch is obviously not afraid to go to hell. I figure he doesn’t believe in an afterlife. I need chocolate.

 

5:00

We don’t know anything.

 

5:20

Moscow Mitch is still in his seat. No surprise there but it makes me furious. KY votes the devil into the Senate yet again.

 

5:30

I make scrambled eggs for dinner. I can’t think to cook anything more complicated and I need something light on my stomach. I also eat some apples and honey, as if it’s Rosh Hashanah. Am I subconsciously wishing for a new beginning?

 

5:45

There’s something awful about the way most of the old-time slave states go for Typhoid Donny and the other states for Biden. The Civil War never ended.

 

6:00

Why do we still have the Electoral College? Can’t we get rid of that dinosaur already?

 

6:15

My Patronus is my grandchildren.

 

6:20

My husband turns to me in a panic and asks, “Where do we go if he wins again?” I tell him to just stop. Be positive. Biden will win. (When Reagan was elected I went to the New Zealand embassy and talked with them about emigration. Good times.)

 

6:40

I don’t understand how they can declare a winner in states with only 65% of the vote in. Or less. How can I believe these projections?

 

7:00

We don’t know anything.

 

7:15

Remind me why the country needs Kentucky again.

 

7:30

I have to reread the last Harry Potter book when he defeats Voldemort again, to remind me it’s possible.

 

8:00

Polls close in my home state. There is nothing to know tonight except that once again the power of Typhoid Donny to gain votes was underestimated. The pollsters were far off the mark yet again.

 

9:00

I’m done. I decide to go to bed, to dream of my beautiful grandsons. I hope there will be a future for them when I wake up in the morning.

 

Election Day Two 2:00 AM

My husband is not in my bed.

 

6:00

My husband comes back to bed, crashing around the room and flashing lights, like only a man can. I wonder if he was looking at election returns. We don’t speak so I don’t know. I go back to sleep.

 

7:15

I am up and I wonder if this is the ending or the beginning.

 

7:30

I think of the expression “it’s not the end of the world” and I think well actually it could be. I’m afraid to plug in and find out what’s going on out there.

 

7:45

A buck with a rack of antlers stands as if posing for a magazine photographer on my neighbor’s lawn across the street. Little yellow finches perch in my bottlebrush tree. It’s another crisp autumn day in scorched but glorious NorCal. Beauty walks in the world for a while longer.

 

8:00

I go to the online news. No outcome. I know that the ballots now being counted in the swing states are mail-ins and those will lean Democrat. We knew going into this that a protracted period of counting would occur, but it’s another thing to live through it. The fact that it's this close is horrifying and does not bode well for the future of this country, the world, and on a personal level for my children and grandchildren. Even when (being optimistic) Biden wins, we must live in this country loaded with millions of people who still think Typhoid Donny was a good choice, and would choose him again to lead us to our doom. They may be in the minority, but that doesn’t diminish the fact that there are so many of them. The pollsters once again scratch their heads and wonder how they could be so far off in their predictions. I’ll tell them why. They don’t count Typhoid Donny’s followers. They don’t poll them. They don’t ask them their opinion. No wonder these people are angry. Who do the pollsters poll and how? Disenfranchised and marginalized people come in many colors. As long as divide and conquer is the norm, we will never come together to agree on anything.

 

9:00

Typhoid Donny says he wants the Supreme Court to stop the vote count in states where he is ahead and to have the count continue in states where he is behind. And his followers have no problem with that line of thinking. He is right about one thing. He really could shoot someone dead on the street and his followers would love him anyway.

 

9:30

Mississippi voted yesterday to stop using the Confederate flag as part of the state flag. Are you kidding me? The Civil War officially ended in 1865. Same year they abolished slavery. I guess Mississippi remains nostalgic for the institution of slavery.

 

10:00

Ron is still asleep. I think perhaps he was up all night.

 

1:00

He was up all night. He couldn’t sleep so he listened to music and watched clips from old movies. I went to the grocery store and he was awake when I returned. After lunch, I went for a walk in the great outdoors as I do every morning. Things are looking up. Biden has won WI and will probably win MI. Typhoid Donny has started kicking, screaming, litigating, and generally throwing a toddler tantrum.  But it won’t do him any good. Biden may not even need PA at this rate. I am disappointed that the Dems did not flip the Senate. That will make things tough. It’s a stark reminder of just how backward this country is at its roots. Moscow Mitch has permission to continue doing what he does best. Obstruction. He has no skill at legislating or even building anything. He’s an expert at standing in the middle of the road with his hand up and at punting to the judiciary. He thinks everything will be resolved in court and Congress will become obsolete. This is not what the founders intended by the creation of the federal courts.

 

3:00

Typhoid Donny says he will “take this to the Supreme Court.” Take what? Legitimate votes are being counted. What is there to litigate? Biden is almost at 270. Obviously, even when Biden gets the votes and the Electoral College certifies his win, Typhoid Donny will not concede. I hope Biden is declared the winner soon. Please put us out of our misery.

 

4:00

I’m thinking chocolate brownies for dinner.

 

7:00

We watch a John Cleese film for some laughs and to take our minds off this madness. John Cleese for president.

 

9:15 PM

I floss my teeth and lose myself in a good book. I hope Ron can sleep tonight.

 

Election Day Three 7:30 AM

I plug in and read the late night comedy roundup while sipping my morning matcha. Jimmy Kimmel says “I thought if you have an election that lasts more than 48 hours you’re supposed to seek medical attention.” Trevor Noah, speaking about the legalization of hard drugs in OR, says “At least Oregon has a backup plan if Biden loses.”

 

1:00

Apparently Typhoid Donny has proclaimed himself the winner numerous times while simultaneously claiming the election is fraudulent and demanding that they stop counting legitimate ballots. He has either won an illegitimate election or lost one that will go on forever.

 

3:00

We are packing to go to Portland to visit the grandchildren. Since they legalized psilocybin mushrooms in OR, if Biden loses, we may be there for a while. (Not to worry, though, since Biden will win. I have faith.)

 

6:00

There are no definitive election results. They are still counting ballots. Typhoid Donny is still thrashing and fuming. Biden is still urging patience.

 

9:00

Even with no conclusion, all signs point toward a Biden and Harris win. We go to sleep hoping this misery will end soon.

 

Election Day Four 12 Noon (written in the car on Highway 5)

Online news says PA is nearing completion of the tally and Biden will win. I’m glad to be unplugged and offline today while traveling to Portland. I can do without hearing how Typhoid Donny is thrashing around in the throes of his loss. They will probably have to shoot him with an elephant tranquilizer dart, drag him out of the White House, and put him on a helicopter to FL in January. FL can have him. They deserve him. They earned him with the malfeasance that gave us W over Gore in 2000. The past four years have been so bad that W has begun to look like a kindly, misinformed, bumbling, slightly senile grandpa. It’s shocking how good W looks in retrospect compared to this. And we had a countdown clock on our wall for eight years! I guess the lesson there is “it could always be worse.” It was.

 

Election Day Five 9:30 AM

We are getting ready to sit down to breakfast with our two sons, daughter-in-law, and two grandsons when the news breaks. My daughter-in-law calls me over and shows me the news on her phone. I whoop. I dance around the living room with my grandson singing, “I love my new president.” My children connect with their friends, sharing jubilant texts and looking at responses from around the country and the world. We break out a bottle of champagne with breakfast and toast to the future. I hold my grandson in my lap and fight back tears. I remember 2016, weeping in my husband’s arms. I try not to weep with joy since I don’t wish to alarm my grandson. It is a sweet moment that I will always remember to counteract my memory of 2016. That was then. Now I have this.

 

11:00

I watch Van Jones break down on TV as he says, “It’s easier to be a parent today…. This is vindication for a lot of people who have suffered.” People are gathering in BLM Plaza in DC and in front of the White House with signs that say, “You’re fired.” Revenge is sweet. Victory is sweet.

 

1:00

I spend my day crawling around the floor with the one-year-old and reading stories to the three-year-old and generally engaging in small child shenanigans. My son, grandson, and I go for a walk in the rain. The air is clear and smells of flowers. I bake bread and my sons bake chocolate chip cookies.

 

3:00

We play happy music and dance around wildly, filled with the joy of being alive on this historic day and experiencing it here together. Even the baby is bopping to the beat. We celebrate a chance at a decent future. I no longer despair for what lies ahead for my grandsons. I’m grateful that the verdict took this long and arrived when it did so I can celebrate here with my children and grandchildren.

 

5:00

I take a break from preparing dinner to watch Harris live as she and Biden come out to speak to the nation. I unexpectedly break down in tears when she takes the stage. Hilary paved the way for this. Four years later, at last, a woman VP. It means that much. Many women suffered and died to get to today. I lived to see it. From Harris’s speech:  “And to the children of our country, regardless of your gender, our country has sent you a clear message:  Dream with ambition, lead with conviction, and see yourself in a way that others might not see you, simply because they’ve never seen it before. And we will applaud you every step of the way.” What a relief to hear true, articulate, intelligent, inspiring words coming from our nation’s leaders again. Vocabulary is back in vogue.

 

6:00

Euphoria. I have spent most of my day outside time, living in the moment with small children. Whatever troubles happen in the world, they remain far away and don’t touch us here in this place. Love floats us above the fray, sweet and enduring. The little arms of the three-year-old that wrap around my neck and the babble-talk of the baby are all that matter. They are everything. I have faith that there will be a viable future.

 

6:15

I turn to Ron and say, “Let’s live here.”