I didn't start out an "Obama Girl," or "Obama Bunny" as a friend of a one-time friend referred to me. I was, and remain, a huge and very loyal "Hillary Girl." I didn't think Barack Obama had the experience needed to do the job.
I felt as though some people who had been supporters of Hillary Clinton were being swayed by a charming, charismatic man who had captured the world's attention with the first speech many of us watched him give in 2004 when he did the keynote address at the Democratic National Convention. I felt like we were being courted. And while I saw the things others saw in this young man, truthfully, I resented him - I felt like it was Hillary's turn. I felt as though she had earned the right to be the person nominated as the Democrat's choice. I thought it was her turn to win. I believed in my heart she would be our next president after eight years under a president who I felt was a puppet to the vice president, along with special interest groups, and who, in my always humble opinion, just wasn't quite up to the job. I think Hillary Clinton would have been a good president. I still do. I hope she'll take another run at it.
But. Barack Obama won. Pretty soon my Democrat friends were saying, "he's more Republican than Democrat!"
My Republican friends hated him from Day One.
Congress? We're not even gonna go there. It's too embarrassing.
Me? I came to admire him and support him.
I watched the inauguration and was moved. (and fell in love with Aretha's Hat!).
I watched him dance at the inaugural balls with his beautiful wife and fell in love with him. What's sexier than a man who is over the moon in love with his wife and can show her and the rest of world during a slow dance?
Four years later I watched him during his second inauguration. This time, firmly in his camp. I think he's a decent man - proably too decent to be in the bed of vipers we call our nation's capital. I think, given some support from congress, he could turn this country around and put us back on track. Time will tell.
In the meantime, there was no Aretha's Hat for me to fall in love with. But, oh man, those red coats with the fur collars and cuffs the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir wore? sigh. Yeah, I could enjoy the heck out of wearing one of those.