The Drama of the Appointed Savior

There is an unsettling phenomena happening.

Walking in the mall, I see in the window of a Spencer's Gifts a display of Barak Obama merchandise with the prominently featured message "CHANGE HAS COME. 1/20/09"

Watching TV, a commericial for a Barak Obama commemorative coin urgently notes the "glorious" depiction of this American "icon" to memorialize this most historic of moments.

Strolling along the street of my sleepy hometown, a fashion boutique more known for its eclectic apparel targeting wealthy middle-aged women has a collection of Barack Obama commemorative plates for sale in the window.

All I can think is: Wow. This poor man.

I was moved on Election Night just as millions of others were, but think about it for a minute - how incredibly pressured would any of us feel to all of a sudden have the hopes and expectations of millions of people thrust upon you with the open admission that it was up to YOU to make everything right?

I'm not suggesting that our President-Elect is not up to the job. Even though I did not vote for Obama, I watched the returns that Tuesday night and felt perfectly peaceful with the outcome. He will soon be my President, and I will do my humble part to support him as any patriot - i.e., one with a passion for their country - would.

I do feel bad for him. I believe his intentions are absolutely pure and good, but he is merely human. It concerns me that so much of the American public has all but anointed this man, when it is only a matter of time before those same people will tear him down off the very altar they built in his praise. That's not cynicism - that's just the way we roll here in the USA. We love to send our idols soaring on wings of wax, then watch as the mighty fall to earth, wings melted and scorched by the brilliant sun.

It's strange to feel like I'm pulling for the underdog when he couldn't be in more of a honeymoon period with this country. But I can't help but anticipate the time when he falters - as all humans will, and do - and the shine starts coming off the apple. There are people who fully believe that he will buy their home back for them. There are those who are holding him responsible for getting them a job - not just A job, but a job that they won't have to interview for and with better pay and benefits then they've ever had before. And still others think he can bring the price of gas down to $1 a gallon indefinitely. It will be all candy houses with licorice fences! It's scary how much more entitled this society has become.

I'm not saying things shouldn't get better. We are all vulnerable, and things must change. I have faith in President Obama that he will help us get there. I believe he can help us help ourselves - by clearing the path for us to see the way clearly, not by holding our hand. This in itself would be doing our society a great service.

I just hope our country can muster the maturity to resist the voyeristic thrill of witnissing the meteoric rise followed by the tragic decline. If history is any indicator, the odds are not favorable.

And as it has been throughout civilizations, for the poweful and adored, Damacles' sword is held by but a hair.

The Minute Before Midnight

I'm not sure when or where I started doing this, but every New Year's Eve I make it a point to count my blessings at 11:59 PM. For the last three years, I've had the pleasure of sharing this ritual with my husband. He had never heard of the practice before, but now it's become a tender way for us to reflect on all the things of the past year we're grateful for.

I'm a big believer in putting good things out in the universe to resonate across the cosmos. So here's my attempt to recognize and pay the positive karma forward.

These were my blessings in 2008:

My health

My family and friends

My job - especially after being unemployed for a few months this year. I am incredibly lucky to have landed not just a job, but my dream job.

My husband's employment throughout most of the year, and that he returned safe and sound.

My amazing husband, who even in the darkest of moments refused to turn away, even when he thought I would. He has defined for me the true measure of a man.

My wonderful, maddening, beautiful baby girl Cairn Terrier, Moxie. She breathed new life into my broken heart...she is my "little star".

Most of all, I am truly blessed and overwhelmed with the staggering lessons love has taught me this year. I was tested in a way I never wished to be, and it brought me to depths I never wished to encounter. I wrestled with my faith, my values, promises I'd made to myself. And it forced me to closely and harshly examine the extent to which I was willing to go for true love. In the end, a sacrifice had to be made to protect "us". The lessons I learned from that were simultaneously painful and enlightening.

Real, committed love requires a constant leap of faith. It will at times demand you to be flexible beyond limits you never dreamed possible. It means adopting an attitude of "stick-with-it"ness that challenges what you think you know. It's about completely giving yourself over and becoming totally vulnerable. It is terrifying, and can be extremely damaging if the risk is taken on someone who turns out wasn't worth the gamble.

When all deliberating was done, I trusted my instincts. I did the thing I thought I could never do, with not much more than a prayer that in time it would be rewarded. I have never been very lucky in love, so had I made my decision solely based on previous experience I would undoubtedly be in a very different place right now.

But I chose to listen to the voice that reassured me that I finally had gotten it right. And despite the horrible aftermath, I'm ultimately glad I did. It has been over nine months since the crisis occurred, and we have emerged stronger, more dedicated and each more willing to bend to what the other needs. I know I am his primary concern - he lets me know every single day in his words and actions - as he is mine.

I feel okay saying this to the world because it did not come easy. It was hard fought and hard won, with a great deal of work and effort from both sides. We earned this fair and square. Anything worth having can't be phoned in - you have to jump in with the understanding that there are no guarantees, and be willing to back up your words with your actions. It turns out, the very event I thought would break us - and me - ended up becoming a turning point. It cemented for us what we had hoped was always there. What a relief to find out through suffering that the love you share with someone is everything you thought it was only to discover that, when tested, it is even more.

So, I guess for me 2008 can be summed up with this:

"That's the way romance is. Usually, that's the way it goes. But, every once in awhile, it goes the other way too."

The dreams you come in with aren't always the ones you leave with. Sometimes...they're better.

On Our First Married Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me...

The picture you see to your right was taken on the first day of our honeymoon, a little less than one month ago. My beloved husband Rodney is a proud self-proclaimed "comic geek", and for some time had been passionate about me reading the classic graphic novel, "The Watchmen". So, flush with the desire to make my newly betrothed an even happier man, I brought his copy along with us to Jamaica and dug in right away. Clearly the event moved him so much he felt compelled to photograph the moment as a keepsake (and, I suspect, evidence for bragging rights at our local Hanley's Universe Comic Shop).

I am not a literary snob by any means. I can enjoy a sleazy pulp fiction novel as much as the works of Milton. And I adore pop culture. So the fact that I ended up thoroughly enjoying "The Watchmen" wasn't what surprised me. It was more the fact that I had always associated the whole comic-book thing as being more of a boy's hobby. I am feminine to the hilt: makeup, lots of pink in my wardrobe and decor, nails done, skirts and heels. So when I had dabbled in comics as a kid, it was mostly the "Betty and Veronica" issues from the "Archie" series. The only title I ever got addicted to was the short-lived DC herione saga "Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld". I mean, she got to wear huge jewels and had her own friggin Pegasus, for chrissakes! (For obvious reasons, Rodney finds this endlessly amusing.)So the fact that I had entered what I'd traditionally considered to be a Y-chromosome zone and found something I really liked called me out on my own gender-bias regarding my hubby's favorite pasttime.

Needless to say, he was thrilled at my receptiveness to the novel. We had several interesting discussions about the story and its characters. As luck would have it, we met up with another couple at the resort who were also comic fans and they suggested a number of books for us to check out. It was clear I was really warming up to the whole idea, and Rodney could not be more pleased.

This Christmas, I found out the true extent of his elation.

My birthday falls a week before Christmas. This is when the campaign began. Rodney takes me out to this great sushi restaurant around our way, and leads us to a reserved private booth. We order drinks and food, and then he reaches for this huge bag full of gifts. As he starts to artfully arrange them in a careful presentation around the banquette, I begin to suspect a theme. All of them are flat and square - some thin, others thicker. I am curious, but delighted.

In short, the bulk of my birthday booty consisted of the following:

"From Hell" by Alan Moore
The entire "Promethea" series by Alan Moore
The entire "Y - The Last Man" series
Joss Whedon's run of X-Men
The "Alias" graphic novels by Brian Michael Bendis
A special edition of Neil Gaiman's "Stardust"

The last of these was touching and sentimental, since we'd had a romantic date and seen the movie version last December during a holiday visit to his parents in North Carolina. The rest? Let's just say I was very flattered by his enthusiasm for my conversion to the comic cult.

Like a dedicated sommilier chooses wine, Rodney continued to select the finest literature from the caped crusader genre as Christmas gifts. He was largely inspired by a suggestion my friend Andy had mentioned: Andy, if you're reading this, I indeed received The Dark Knight Returns under the tree (he was actually bummed he hadn't thought of Sandman first). To quote our good friend Andy, "We who love comics are almost as bad as Jesus freaks. If you give us an inch of interest, we have a ton of comics to shove down your throat. " Or, if you happen to have an adorable 7-year-old son, you might also leverage him to recruit to the cause: Zack gave me "The Killing Joke" from the Batman collection - no doubt convinced with the reassuring "she'll love it!" paternal nudge.

The truth is, I love that my husband values my imagination and open-mindedness to the point that he feels safe enough to share his interests with such excitement. I am genuinely enjoying my new library (I'm making my way through "From Hell" - Moore's storytelling is seriously dense, y'all!). And I completely love my lil fanboys: the big one and the little one.

The movie version of "The Watchmen" is supposed to hit theatres next March. Now a studio lawsuit may delay its release indefinitely. I'm bummed - really! I think it's safe to say the transformation has begun...