Hillary Clinton
Last night I found myself weeping into my pillow with relief. I had been working late, so crawled into bed a few minutes before Fred Dove signed off for the night, and was drifting to sleep when the opening line of the news bulletin suddenly had me turning up the volume to make quite sure I hadn't misheard: Hillary Clinton had won the New Hampshire primary.
This was pretty much the opposite of what the polls had been saying a few hours earlier, so it took about half an hour's coverage before I quite believed it. I never really thought she'd get this far, in the first place; for years, I said the second Clinton president would be Chelsea, because I didn't think the people who liked Hillary liked her enough to counter the ones who hated her. So it was only very recently that I allowed myself to believe she actually had a chance, and it was only in the last week, when that possibility seemed to be snatched away again, that I began to realise what a blow it would be to me if she failed. It didn't really surprise me that things seemed to be going wrong; every election I've cared about recently has gone against my preference. But I was getting progressively more miserable until last night.
I'm not sure why it seems so important to me, as I've nothing in particular against the other Democrats. Is it because I identify with a middle-aged woman? (Actually, Obama is a few months older than I am, but he feels at least a decade younger.) Is it because we've only a couple of degrees of separation? Is it just that I can't shake off 15 years of protective instincts towards her? Or do I actually think she'd be quite good?
Anyway, I've been a bit happier today. I expect everything will go wrong again in the next few weeks but, for now, thank you New Hampshire.
This was pretty much the opposite of what the polls had been saying a few hours earlier, so it took about half an hour's coverage before I quite believed it. I never really thought she'd get this far, in the first place; for years, I said the second Clinton president would be Chelsea, because I didn't think the people who liked Hillary liked her enough to counter the ones who hated her. So it was only very recently that I allowed myself to believe she actually had a chance, and it was only in the last week, when that possibility seemed to be snatched away again, that I began to realise what a blow it would be to me if she failed. It didn't really surprise me that things seemed to be going wrong; every election I've cared about recently has gone against my preference. But I was getting progressively more miserable until last night.
I'm not sure why it seems so important to me, as I've nothing in particular against the other Democrats. Is it because I identify with a middle-aged woman? (Actually, Obama is a few months older than I am, but he feels at least a decade younger.) Is it because we've only a couple of degrees of separation? Is it just that I can't shake off 15 years of protective instincts towards her? Or do I actually think she'd be quite good?
Anyway, I've been a bit happier today. I expect everything will go wrong again in the next few weeks but, for now, thank you New Hampshire.