I’ve been wondering all day what I can possibly say here that hasn’t already been said in a million corners of the blogosphere, and probably in a million better ways than I can manage.

I’ve considered waxing poetic on the fact that a country with a deep and ugly history of racism has finally elected a black man to the highest office in the land. But you’ve all heard about that ad nauseum by this point.

I thought about trying to offer an olive branch to my conservative friends, who I know are unhappy and even downright frightened about what the future now holds. But I fear such words may be misconstrued as gloating, or worse. (I will just say that I know exactly how you feel, like you’ve passed through the looking glass and everything is insane and the whole country is rocketing toward the abyss. I was there in 2000 and especially in 2004. Trust me, you’ll make it through.)

The obvious thing to do would be to recount my feelings and experiences on this historic occasion, to record for posterity what it was like to be here when a huge landmark was at long last achieved. But honestly, last night is kind of a blur for me. I was steeling myself for a big disappointment — Barack Obama is a Democrat, after all, and we have a long and ignominious history of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory — and I think I did it so well that I was kind of numb when the returns actually went the way I wanted them to. The last 24 hours have been positively surreal for me.

I think the best thing to do is to quote what I thought was the most impressive part of President-Elect Obama’s acceptance speech, a remarkable passage in which he simultaneously leveled with his supporters about just how difficult it’s going to be to fix the things we want fixed, while still maintaining an inspirational tone and even reaching out to those on the other side. I can’t recall any presidents-elect in all my years of political awareness being so honest in their acceptance speech, which is usually about triumph and blind idealism without much acknowledgment of the practical matters to come. It felt like we were being spoken to be a grown-up, by a man who is sincerely looking for a middle ground and a way to make this country work for all of us and to encourage us, in turn, to work for our country. Most of all, it felt like we were being addressed by a man who is ready to be president, in spite of what his detractors have been saying:

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. But, America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there.
I promise you, we as a people will get there.

 

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won’t agree with every decision or policy I make as president. And we know the government can’t solve every problem.

 

But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it’s been done in America for 221 years — block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

 

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night.

 

This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were.

 

It can’t happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.

 

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other.

 

Let us remember that, if this financial crisis taught us anything, it’s that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers.

 

In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let’s resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long.
Let’s remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House, a party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity.

 

Those are values that we all share. And while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

 

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

 

And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.

After the speech was over, I turned to The Girlfriend and asked her what she’d thought. She said, “I think we may actually have a chance to get out of this mess.” And I agreed.

For the record, I’m not an Obama cultist. Never have been, and I think all those people who speak of him in breathless reverence need to get a grip. In fact, my thinking on this point is pretty much along the same lines as Scalzi’s. But I must admit that Barack inspires a confidence in me that I did not feel for Bill Clinton, as much as I liked him, and certainly not for any of the other presidents I’ve seen since reaching voting age way back in the late ’80s. If it really is possible to bind up our self-inflicted wounds and get this tired, battered country of ours back on track, if anyone can undo the damage wrought by years of divisive, angry, and cynical politics, I think it is this man.

I know it’s getting old at this point, but like those time-worn cliches that people keep repeating because, well, they’re true… yes we can.