I get these emails from Scott Turner at Rocky Sullivan’s every week or so announcing their weekly pub  quiz. I don’t know Scott Turner from Adam but I’ve come to enjoy his writing. Here’s the latest on this historic Election Day:

Early this morning, 2 a.m., I took our dogs Sirius and Tikkanen for a walk.  It was the quietest I’ve ever seen Brooklyn.  This was no mere middle of the night.  This wasn’t even the calm before a winter snowstorm when it’s just passing the Delaware Water Gap on its way to NYC.  There wasn’t a single sound — and our place is within audible distance of both the BQE and the Prospect Expressway.  Hell, we live on a truck route.

 

Nothing.

 

Once the dogs had done what they do on the last walk of the night,
something in the ether caught their attention.  Maybe they saw
something spectral — dogs can do that.  Maybe they sensed something.
Maybe they sensed me sensing something.

 

It was the biggest political eve of our lifetimes.

 

No matter how things shake out today, the country will never be the same.  The U.S. of A.
has amassed a stunning history in its still-young life.  Much of it
amazing, some of it scandalous, all of it uproarious.  The nation’s
birth 200 years ago was everything our government has vitriolically
condemned ever since when anyone else tries it — treason, rebellion,
guerrilla warfare, seditious talk, economic freedom, and the very
notion of independence.

 

Among the things we left for dead is the idea of true democracy.
There are serious concerns today about voter supression, chiefly
through President Bush’s Help America Vote Act — perhaps it should have been called the Keep America From Voting Act.  Arcane rules, voter expunging by the millions, misinformation, and more than a few Kathleen Harrises
across the land targetting voters whose descriptions include "new," "of
color," "newly naturalized," "union," "working-class" or "with an
outstanding parking ticket"

 

Virginia, this morning

 

…and still, they come.  Diane’s and my wait was
40 minutes.  An elderly woman, leaning on a cane in front of us, was
approached by a polling worker who said "if you’re uncomfortable, you
can move to the front of the line."  The elderly woman looked up and
said "no, this is my place in line."

 

Every voter today understands what’s at stake.  It’s not just
"America’s first Black president" or "I like the maverick" or "CHANGE"
or "saving America from a terrorist-coddling socialist Muslim."  The
entire world is watching.  Watching to see if the nation’s
citizenry crawl all the way to the deepest recesses of global family
our concrete bunker, turning out the lights and slamming the door on
the rest of humanity — like we did in 2004.  Or, maybe we’ll insist
that CHANGE is something more than a soundbite even worse than a lie —
one that taunts with hope and never, ever delivers.

Today, we vote.  Tomorrow, and every day for the next four years, we remind our leaders of that vote.

 

Rare are the days, the hours, the single solitary moments that
change our lives — every one of ours, together, at the exact same
instant.  September 11th did, but we didn’t ask for that.  This, we’ve
sought out.  Whoever you vote for, this is a moment we’ve pushed for —
on the ground or in our souls.

 

The real work in the real world — the world free from polls,
pundits, prevarications and prognostications — will start tomorrow,
Wednesday the 5th of November, 2008.

 

Tonight…tonight is the thundercrack.  Does it light up our future, or scorch it irreparably?

 

Tonight is the thundercrack whose roar will never, ever dissipate.