Three Things That Solidified My Vote

Three things happened this week that further solidified my reasoning for voting for President Obama.

The first was church this weekend when I was shocked that my usually non-partisan Sunday messages were filled with the right-wing lies straight out of their national playbook.  I walked out.  Even my daughters (it was the 5th Sunday, the Sunday when the families are supposed to worship together and not be in their respective grade level, middle school, or high school church).

The second thing was Hurricane Sandy that dumped a deluge of snow (Appalacian mountains) and rain (New York,  New Jersey especially hit hard) on the Eastern Shore.  States including Virginia, Maryland (including the area of DC), West Virginia, Connecticut, Delaware, Philadelphia, New York, and New Jersey are in the direct path of what was a horrible storm last night.  The light of day this morning and the streaming videos are showing just how bad the devastation.  The entire part of Manhattan where my family enjoyed our vacation this past June is under water.  The subway is submerged, the side of New Jersey where we took pictures and looked over to New York with the Statute of Liberty in the background, is under water.  It is heartbreaking and devastating.

The third thing, related to the second thing, was how President Obama and Governor Mitt Romney responded.

The President immediately kicked into action, suspended his campaigning, commanded the federal government "no red tape" and to do whatever was necessary "for the duration" to make sure the people are taken care of.  He said the election "will take care of itself next week" and that the focus right now should be on the people.  He said the Mayors and Governors (including those not of his party!) have his direct line in case any federal agency gives them red tape.  He is being compassionate and directive.  He understands the impact this has on the lives of the millions affected there and he is doing what we elected him to do with the collective resources of the federal government.

Mitt Romney, on the other hand, incidentally in Ohio, decided to politicize it and remind the voters in Ohio to vote for him for president.  The very man who said that FEMA should be eliminated and that disaster relief should be under the control of the states or "better yet, the private sector." Spoken just like a greedy billionaire - they are part of the crew that wants to eliminate public schools (his wife) and have privatized prisons (Mississippi is being sued for the inhumane treatment happening in their private prisons) and want to put everything in the hands of a few rich white men who really care nothing about the people of the country.

I already knew I was going to vote for President Obama because he has done a great job in the face of tremendous obstacles, including threats against his wife and most recently, against his daughters (Ann Coulter) and the disparaging racial remarks against him (again, most recently from Sarah Palin).  This man, faithful husband, devoted father, Christian, has endured more than any of the other 43 white presidents ever had to take from the populace.  He stands for fair pay for women, knowing that if women have the equal opportunity to make a living wage and afford healthcare; they will not have to make wrenching decisions like aborting a fetus because they can not afford to feed it; he knows that the affordable health care act is really an economic recovery act because it only takes one major illness to wipe out family finances (my family pays a mint for health care and I endured two sudden illnesses, two hospitalizations, and one emergency surgery all within the last three months, without health care, the bills would have bankrupted us); he has spoken in support of the public school system as well as those innovative charter schools that are working to increase the national educational success for ALL the children of the country and not the select few like the five Romney sons who have never been in public school.  There are many reasons why President Obama has earned my respect and my vote.

The bottom line in this last week of the election is that there is only one man who truly cares for the nation and he is not the wealthy man with the condescending smirk on his face.

You can make a difference - the President asked that we donate to the American Red Cross because "they know what they are doing" and respond immediately to the needs of those affected.  Please consider that as part of your action.

Walking Out On Grace

The girls and I were sitting in worship today, enjoying the message, thus far, and the spirit-filled, sweet moment of praise – “Because of who you are” – still ringing in our spirits…when my head could not register the shock that happened next.

We have been attending the same church since we moved here, primarily for the ordered services, the multi-generational, multi-cultural, and multi-economic congregation.  The church has separate churches for the babies, children, middle school, high school, and adult audiences.  The pastor calls us “Christ-followers” and for years kept the message focused on simply loving the Lord.

Then slowly, once President Obama was elected, there seemed to be more and more partisan messages creeping in, subtle at first, I almost missed it…until today.

He has been teaching a series on the Beatitudes, a simple and applicable message of Christ – you know, those words in red in Matthew 5 – when in the pause of his message today, he put up some PowerPoints about persecuted Christians around the world.  He talked about the slain ambassador…then dropped the bomb – figuratively – that Christians were being persecuted here in the United States.  He proceeded to cite so-called “proof” of this – all from material sourced from a known neo-con, far-right, religious right organization.  He started in about when we vote for those judges to think about all this, how the “government” is persecuting us. 

I got up, told my girls to gather their things and we walked out.

Politeness would have kept me in my seat, but in the face of such a blatantly misleading message, my spirit would not sit still and listen to this.  I walked completely out of the complex and would have driven away had my husband not been doing his monthly service in the special needs children’s class.  I texted him and let him know we walked out and were in the van waiting. 

I believe I will never darken the door of that church again – Grace Church on McKelvey Road in Bridgeton, MO – because they went over the line with this one.  It was far beyond what he said four years ago when he admonished everyone to vote but reminded everyone that we are Christ-followers, to be peaceloving, and to respect each other.  Today, that went out the window with his anecdote that is straight out of the Romney-Ryan, Palin, Limbaugh, Akin, Murdouck playbook – a playbook that is against civil rights, against women, against blacks, against the very latinos that this church has a second service for in Spanish!

My stomach turns, me, the preacher’s daughter, every time one of these churches or pastors misappropriates the pulpit for their political agenda.  I was so disappointed because one of the things that made this church grow, why there was everything from a biker to a same-sex lesbian couple was that his message was one of following in the path of Christ.  Jesus was a liberal; he fed the hungry and had nothing to do with the moneychangers and Pharisees!

I walked out, took my girls with me, and told them why.  This is only the third time in my 48 years of living that I walked out of a religious service.  This was beyond the scope of the peacemaker message he started out with today. 

Christian seniors are not being told they cannot pray over their food in nursing homes; Christian kids are not being persecuted in the public schools; Christians are not being killed in America for exercising their faith – if anything, these so-called Christians, religious right, neo-cons are trying to make the United States a theocracy, not the democracy it was founded upon – a nation without a state religion, a nation where everyone is FREE to exercise their faith and beliefs, a nation where respect for liberty was what drew so many to these shores.  We were not founded as a Christian nation – there was a reason the founding fathers put in a separation of church and state – they need to stop spreading that false doctrine and divisive message.  I could not believe that Pastor Ron would go there today. 

Enough is enough! The real believers need to stand up and walk out, enough of sitting in the pews listening to messages that are anything but peaceful and completely opposite of Jesus.  I, like my friends of the Christian Left and so many other groups, are taking back our faith and not accepting these messages.

Working The New Normal

I have been fortunate in that I really don’t have to work, despite my husband’s sometime angst-filled rants about how much is spent on groceries, I am blessed that he really does make enough to provide for the family’s needs and a few wants.  With this as my family backdrop and my number-one occupation being mom for the past decade, I venture into the world of paid work to keep my resume current, my skills sharp, and pay for yet another violin/piano/vocal/guitar/whatever-they-need-lesson.  

I am able to pick and choose my projects as an independent consultant and small business owner.  I’ve devoted the past five or six years to my writing and have acquired a pretty good collection of narrative essays, book reviews, and poetry.  I am deeply involved in my local community and serve on the board of directors to local non-profits, have managed budgets for banquets, and have been a facilitator for community forums.  The past five years have allowed me to stretch my skill set and utilize all those things that make up my professional character.  I've taught undergraduate students and mentored elementary students.  I am circular, spiral in my pursuits, and not easily boxed in.

A recent opportunity fell into my lap, much like my last two opportunities.  I thought, ok, why not, I have experience being a brand champion, working trade shows, and the soft sales of expos.  I became a temporary brand ambassador for a local senior-services insurance company.  It was contracted through a locally owned marketing company that recruited a bunch of us “seasoned professionals” to represent the brand.  The room full of over-40-somethings were part of the new normal.  Some where actors and actresses between gigs, some, like me, were professors without a classroom for the semester, somewhere elementary school teachers who wanted a weekend gig to supplement their gutted salaries, somewhere executive MBA dads who were the stay-at-home-spouse with a child now in elementary school, a few were retired and had fat pensions from the “good old days” of when St. Louis companies understood the commitment and loyalty of thirty years; we were all in a grayer state of life and living a new normal.

The temporary gig was very interesting in how it is set up.  Purposely “30 hours per week” so as not to have to offer benefits or something as basic as a lunch hour.  Most of the ambassadors were getting 12-18 hours and week and many, like me, were wondering why we were wasting our time doing this.  “Gas money” “paying for a lesson” “tuition supplement for the kid” “groceries” – a myriad of reasons why we were enduring the mind-numbing boredom of sitting for six hours (minus two fifteen-minute breaks that had to be taken separately – just enough time to go to the restroom and guzzle a bottle of water) giving out information to a few senior citizens who stopped to inquire.  We were admonished a million times in training not to answer “compliance” questions because we are not licensed insurance agents and were “secret shopped” to make sure we did not talk about “Obamacare.” It all seemed so pointless. 

I realized we were in the new normal of temporary assignments.  All of us were over-qualified, many of us had our resumes received because we were applying for some other brand management position but were told we were very “over-qualified” but they had a great assignment for us.  An assignment at 1/3^rd my former corporate salary.  It reminded me of a check that my 18 year old son would be happy to have, not many expenses and requirements being on full scholarship.

The new world of work is either some corporate jobs are making 50-60 hours a week mandatory like a beer company one of my fellow Iowa alum started in Chicago. I couldn't believe it when I read the job description for their marketing communications director.  Americans are literally being worked to death at this pace.  There would be no opportunity for life and family and simply reading a book with that kind of life.  Then there is the uber-ambitious young CEO of Yahoo who went back to work two weeks after giving birth to her first child, I couldn't even walk straight after giving birth to my first child thirty years ago.  I was barely in jeans at two weeks!  Such is the new world, Americans are living to work, not working to live, to have the resources to sustain their lives.  I thought of this even as I listened to an NPR interview with older (over 35) women who were trying desperately to reclaim their waning fertility and “harvest” their eggs because they spent their twenties in pursuit of position, power, and purse. 

This sometimes humiliating world of new work makes you question the so-called “job creators” and wonder if what they are really striving for is either a starving populace or an overworked populace who can not question their antics because they are too tired to do so.

I can only hold out hope for my children to be able to pursue their dreams and keep their dignity in tact while doing it.  My older son, a renaissance man, is striving to do this.  He owns his own lyrics, sells his own music, and makes enough to have a flat on the plaza in his city.  He does not have a wife or children.  Sometimes I wonder if he is missing out on that part of his life because while he is comfortable as a single man, refuses to get married until he can provide for a child, with this economy, a lot of the older millennials like him are finding that hard to do.  Fortunately for him, men can become parents at any age, he may just have to marry a girl a few years younger than he is.

My raising children days are still a decade from being complete.  That means that whatever intellectual (and financial) pursuit I take will have to be with “mommy hours” in mind because I do not want to hire a nanny and leave impressionable young girls on their own from 2:30-6:30pm.  Such is the dilemma of a lot of the 50% of the population who, contrary  the conservative norm, really are the primary breadwinners of their households and really do have a lot to contribute to society.

It is at times when I was sitting in that training room and while at the kiosk, with my brain cells struggling for use, when I held out hope for the new normal to change.  Once-upon-a-time, people worked for what would sustain them, making what they needed, and living full, simple lives.

We Deserve Better Than A Government For Millionairese

There was a quote in my local morning paper that said, "if you want a government of the millionaires, by the millionaires, and for the millionaires, than Ann Wagner and Mitt Romney deserve your vote," Glenn Koenen, Democratic candidate for the U.S,. House District 2 of my home state of Missouri.

I do not disparage wealthy people, heck, I am descended from land owners and people of means. I grew up solidly middle class on a middle class street as one of the only families with children and one of the only black families.  My home had three full bathrooms (in 1972!), 5 bedrooms, deep walk-in closets, high ceilings, full basement, almost a quarter acre of back yard, surround sound, on and on.  A huge home that at one time housed parents, grandparents, children (6), and for one summer, grandsons (5)!  We all had plenty of food, summer vacations (often two), monthly allowance, wonderful Christmases and a playroom.  We had our own TVs and record players and a step-mother who didn't have to work but chose to take on the 11p-7a shift at the hospital.  We were very comfortable growing up.  We had two cars, and ability to engage in the activities we wanted.  There were books everywhere, a strong sense of duty and history, and college was expected.  I do not disparate wealthy people or highly successful people, I grew up in a home that was financially comfortable.

What I do have very little patience for is the vitriol against the poor, against the working classes, against the less wealthy, against the ones who have lost it all during the recession and are struggling to hold onto their gains.  I have very little patience for the 1%, heck the 3%, the 5% that think their wealth means they have no obligations to the society that enabled them to obtain that wealth.  Enjoy your success, you earned it, enjoy the ski vacations and custom made golf clubs, but also, honor your debt to society, for you do have a debt.  Whether you inherited your wealth or earned it, you have a greater burden to help pay for the infrastructure you enjoy - you know, those paved roads, street lights, and police force you seem to love so dearly.  You have a responsibility, that is what makes you American.

The whole scream about taxes is simply overprivileged whining.  The tax rate is lower now than it was during President Clinton's administration - the last magical time in the 1990s when the economy was strong and growing.  Everyone was able to step up, to see themselves achieving what their abilities allowed.  There was a place for private businesses (I worked for one) and a place for strong unions that enabled our public servants to live decently while stepping into often dangerous places.  We had a social contract.

I told some of my students that the recession dated back to the 1980s when then President Ronald Reagan began his dismantling of public service unions (air traffic controllers) and his quest to privatize everything.  Social security vouchers have been a lust for the Republicans every since they figured out they could eck out even more money from the public coffers if they could coerce people to "invest" in the market - the very market that the greed the likes of Goldman Sachs and Lehman Brothers caused to collapse in 2007. It took a long time for the walls to come crumbling down, chip by chip, until the foundation crashed just before President Obama was elected.  Greed and war were unsustainable through Bush's lust for power (two unnecessary wars that were not funded) and illogical quest to trickle the money back up and by any means necessary, keep it there.

The lid blew off the tops of the uber wealthy and their poorer working class (mostly white) constituents who also lost jobs, houses, and savings but still had hope in the great white dream of American exceptionalism and prosperity if they just pulled themselves up by their bootstraps.  They needed a place to put their anger and what better place than the newly elected black president with the funny name? They had to otherize him in order to distract the Fox News crowd from the sheer oligarchy they were trying to put in place.  The tea party rallies of the 2008-2010 season that brought in the tidal wave of ultra conservative representatives was funded by the Koch Brothers.  The Citizens United brought down the gauntlet on the American democratic process and opened up the floodgates of special interest money in every election from a local judge to the Presidency.  It is about money and power for the uber wealthy, the 1%, and they care nothing about the rest of the country.

Wealthy business owners forced their employees to attend a Romney campaign rally - without pay, they sent memos to their employees threatening their job if Romney was not elected and even forcing them to make donations, they put up billboards of fear in black and latino communities to incite fear of criminal action if they voted, they have obstructed the right to vote, and have done everything just short of trying to steal another election - all in their quest for power.

We are at a crossroads for the very heart and fiber of this country.  It is time to stop allowing the very wealthy to use tactics of fear, religion, and misogyny to foster their insatiable lust for power and money at the expense of the rest of the country, far more than the 47%, who work hard every day - baristas at the coffee shop where I am typing this blog, the physicians assistant at my doctor's office, the cashier at our locally owned grocery store, the teacher's assistant in my daughters' classrooms, the elderly crossing guard at their school, the maintenance man in my townhouse community - all working hard, providing for their families, and not in the top 1%, all decent people who need someone in office who does have their best interest at heart.

There are fundamental differences between Candidate Mitt Romney and President Barack Obama.  President Obama has brought substance to each of his debates while candidate Romney brought lies and complete disdain for the black man, the latino man, women, the poor, and everyone else who is not in his upper echelons.  His lust for power has complete distanced him from the true and present needs of the country - and his GOP handlers know this.  They have been trying to get a puppet in office so they can respond to their master, Grover Norquist, and his mantra against taxes, so they can bring back the Gilded Age (Todd Akin of Missouri wants to completely eliminate the minimum wage) and wants a populace that is desperately poor, uneducated, and enslaved.

We can do better, we have to.  

I have nothing against the wealthy, there are plenty of them in my family and in my circles, the difference, is that they have a heart and a conscious, they understand the privilege they have and the responsibility they carry.  President Obama said "people like you and me" do not need a tax break.  He knows and many of the so-called job creators also know that they are not going to hire anyone new if they get that big tax cut - they are going to send it over to the Caymen Islands like Mitt Romney's private yaugt that was flying a foreign flag.

We, the people of the United States, deserve a government that is for the rest of us, not a government for the millionaires and billionaires that threaten their employees if the "right" candidate is not elected, that destroy any chance for anyone else to achieve their fullest potential.

We can do better.

Home and Heart

Yesterday, I traveled back to my childhood hometown.  Never expecting to go back, not really, my life had moved on elsewhere.

But back I went, saddened, and needing to be around those of my cohort.

One of our own suddenly, unexpectedly, and tragically came to the end of his life.  He was in his law office, preparing for his court appearance that was to be in just a few hours, and somewhere in all that writing his briefs and gathering his things - he had a brain aneurysm   Sudden and complete, just like that, and his candle went out at only 49.

We traveled back, there were not that many of us, black kids, in that time of growing up, we all knew each other, we were part of each other's formative years.  The church was packed, standing-room-only, they told me the outpouring was just as large the night before for the visitation.  We collectively celebrated his life and grieved for our loss of his smile, his laughter, his determination, his tenacity.

I looked into the faces of those I grew up with and almost without words, we hugged each other, needed to be in each other's presence, to assure each other that we truly were part of a magical time.  Home, sometimes you have to go back to go forward.

My childhood friend and I sat down over lunch and chatted, something we hadn't done is close to 30 years.  Where had the time gone?  She and I went to serve the family in whatever way needed, we felt the need to put our hands at work, so we cleared tables.  We extended our hand to serve to say again, he mattered, he affected us.

The drive back to my family had my heart filled with memories, some moments of yearning for my own children to have that sense of being "in the majority" with other people who looked like us and shared our belief in the future.  I wanted to cocoon for a moment in that crisp air with those who were and are a part of my history.

Home can be a special place.  We reconcile the moments and rejoice in the memories.  We honor the life of those who touched our's and we strive to keep living fully, completely, and to never stop dreaming.

Shouting in a Loud Voice

I have been on a journey over the past thirty years to take back my voice and shout loudly from the rooftops.

See, when you have been silenced, or coerced to silence, scared silent, or forced silent, you will do anything to hold onto that precious thing you have - the right to speak.

When I was a little girl, someone used fear and intimidation to silence me. I was not allowed to have sleepovers or to sleepover, even in high school.  I couldn't go hang out with my friends and was basically made to feel unsure of my voice, even as my father had introduced me to the pen at age 10.

My step-sister violated my sanctity and privacy.  She read my tweenage journal where I pined after my long dead mother, my  long gone big sisters and brothers who knew nothing of my daily terror.  I was alone in a house full of people and poured out my heart in the pages of that diary.  She read it and then told my step-mother, my tormentor, that I wanted to run away, wished for my dead mother, and just wanted to feel safe again.

I learned not to trust.  I kept writing and found ways to hide my voice, I knew my survival meant that.  My voice must have been powerful, even then, that there were so many efforts to quiet me, to still the pen.

The thoughts, the words are sacred.

In college, there was a friend, strictly a friend, who was hanging out at my apartment, a Sunday study session, and I fell asleep. I  was working full-time and going to college full-time, back in the mid-to-late 1980s, a lot on the shoulders of my young life.  Exhaustion set in like a storm cloud, I could not stay awake anymore and a Sunday afternoon nap was the only remedy.  When I woke up, my friend was sitting in my living room, reading my journal, the angst of my twenty-one-year-old self. I was livid. I gave him a piece of my mind, kicked him out, and never wrote in my journal again for several years.

The voice of the mind is a precious thing, not something to be taken for granted or forced into silence.

Years went by before I picked up the pen again.  It was the gentle prodding of an English professor who at first turned my direction to my poetry, wish I had those early pieces now.  I started channeling my observations and thoughts into prose and poetry, and eventually, essays.  I became a thinker, observer, and reviewer.

My journals are still sacred space, hidden among my belongings, something they may read when I die, or something I will burn later.  I still find peace and solitude in the word, in expression, and I still find power in the ability to utter what others would have me quiet.

I have become an observer and in my later years, a commenter about politics.  I think I am channeling parts of my late father who used to watch the evening news and warned about the dangers of not remembering history, the trajectory of the country threatening to destroy gains won though hard lessons and strong discourse.  The words that matter.

This life is only one, only one I have.  This writing is my passion, my purpose, the thing that the Divine One put in my hand, unfinished from generations before, in my hand to do - to use the power of the pen or the keys to convey the message, the thought, and to create dialogue.

"soulful" is how one follower described my writing, a deep longing and soulful presence. This is who I am and I will not be silenced-shouting it in my loud voice!

How Do We Go On?

My heart skipped a beat and I spilled my coffee.

I was sitting down, getting ready to read some poetry, getting caught up on a class. The day was lovely, sunny, not too cold, just right for October and my health was being friendly, a field trip being allowed to Barnes & Noble, settling in for hours of work.

Then I received the post, the status, the shock.

A childhood friend died, unexpectedly, suddenly.

Our families all knew each other. 25 years in the same town, the paths cross, the kids knew the other kids - we were the kids, adults now with our own families, and he died.

I was dumbfounded and unbelieving that this good looking, vibrant, laughing, playful, husband, lawyer, brother, son left this world. Just like that.  Pfft! gone!

It is just that he is only a year older than I am, if that, too young.  He and his wife had been married for twenty years, a lifetime, they made two sons and a daughter. His time wasn't over yet, wasn't finished.

The marvels of cyber-communication is how the news circumvented the states in no time, reaching even around the world as one by one, those of us who were in that cohort growing up registered our shock, our unbelief, our grief. This just could not be.

And it was at the start of homecoming weekend, a prized time of fellowship, togetherness, memories, one he always took part in, from what I remember of him in our college days. Many were already in town for the festivities.

His heart, that is what stopped a life not finished.

I just sat there, had to text my husband, needed to let him know, he never met this childhood friend, Juney, but he needed to know that someone in my cohort left this space too soon.  When did we reach the age that our mortality would be an issue?

There were others that left us too soon.  Elaine and Keith and Jeff, before they even breathed a time of opportunity.  We remember them, twenty-one was the first time I dealt with my conflicting emotions of disbelief that one day someone was here and the next day gone.

We've gotten older and cyber-communication has reconnected many of us from our town and we learned that Hugh passed on and others are struggling to life fully.

I felt a keen sense of a need to go home, not having a home to go to now that my parents are deceased, but feeling like I needed to get in the car and drive the two hours to be in the same air as the place I grew up and created the beginnings of myself.

When I text my husband, he expressed his sorrow for me, for us.  He was walking into a funeral of one of his former students whose mother had passed away days before.  Death swirling around, coming at expected and unexpected times.

Reality hit me as I processed the news. We are all getting older.  My father once told me that "I have more days behind me than I do before me." And he died a short two years after that.  I wasn't finished being his daughter, needing his hugs, hearing his voice, just like Juney's little girl will never have him dance with her at her debutante or wedding, will never tie his sons' tie for graduation, will never hold his precious wife again.  His days ended too soon.

So what do we feel, those of us who grew up in that magical place in that magical time? What do we do with the thoughts and memories and collective sorrow that even while we are not in sight every day or even living near each other anymore, what do we do with our shared history of space and time that causes all of us at once to be in shock that he is gone? What do we do with that void?

Homecoming is nearing her gentle close today, Sunday, the gospel concerts usually happening now and the travel back in full gear.  Tomorrow, we will pick up, go back to work or school or tend to the children's needs.

We live,that is what we do, how we handle it, how we process it.  We keep going and smile in remembering.  Even as next week marks the one year anniversary of one so dear to me who was taken from us before she was finished; I know that my dash is not complete yet, there is the next breath, the next inhalation of air, the next heartbeat.

Go on, live, that is what we do.

The Bully At the Podium

I know bullies.

I know verbal bullies.

The presidential debate last night was a prime time viewing of a verbose  substance-less, double-talker with a loud voice trying desperately to gain the control and power he craves.

In the face of bullies, trying to address their myriad of accusations, implications, and obstructions is almost impossible, it is like trying to talk to a hurricane.  Sometimes it is best to just be still and let the storm pass, knowing the debris left in the wake is that of the bully, knowing you may be hit with something flying in the air, but that you will live to stand another day.

This, I believe, is the strategy President Obama took when he was faced with the torrent of interruptions, loud talk, flip flop, mumbo jumbo, and nothing-ness that came of of the mouth of the Republican candidate, Mitt Romney.

Yes, like many, I was expecting to see the Barack Obama of 2004 and 2008, the one who expertly debated Hilary Clinton and John McCain, the one with the powerful voice.  But, as I marinated over what I saw, at times simply muting the volume to watch the faces, realized that what I saw was simply calm strategy.

President Obama took the position of a patient parent in the face of a child spiraling in an emotional rant, knowing that they will correct them in a moment, but refusing to be brought into the volatile situation.  It is the stance that someone on the receiving end of someone's unexpected and unprovoked verbal attack takes in the midst of it - no one can argue with the wind and a calm answer will triumph over a temper tantrum every time.

In the immediate aftermath, the pundits were equally mad at President Obama for not fighting back - for not feeding the wind - and praising Mitt Romney for fighting - praising the bully.  In the morning after, however, like the bully with a semi-conscious comes to apologize in an offhanded manner, the pundits will realize that President Obama was truly the victor in this one, he let the winded one keep lying and contradicting himself and spinning in circles.

A moderator who sides with the bully is completely ineffective at trying to be fair, that is my assessment of Jim Lehrer's performance.  He did not stop Mitt Romney for going on and on but reprimanded the President for when he tried to answer the question originally posted.  He lost credibility and definitely should not be moderating another debate.  They needed Gwen Ifill, but like the events of the past few years and this election, it was about old white rich men wanting control.

The presidential election and senatorial elections and congressional elections this year are about the people who have been at the receiving end of the abuse of power, abuse of control, abuse of trust, and abuse of personhood at the hands of those who have money.  Money does not make you better than the one who does not have it - the 47%, the ones who stay home to raise the children, the ones who teach the children or care for the sick, the ones who clean the houses or ring up a sale or stock a shelf - money does not make you better than them.  That is what this fight is all about, the rest of the country, not the 1% oligarchs who already have everything and still want to destroy the rest of us - just like bullies.