When 45 won, I watched the returns and resultant befuddled acceptance cluster with the most luminous person I've ever known.
She was opposed to that ticket in every possible way. A former journalist and future lawyer who had previously lived under a state of Pence, etc, etc, with an artistic soul and insights, etc, etc, etc; believer & champion for our highest ideals. I think of her as, among other things, a true great American.
A staunch Sandernista (I risked ending things before they began in our first conversation by noting we were both gonna end up needing to vote for his Primary opponent) she couldn't tolerate Clinton[s] on principled and also personal (also principled) grounds but once the general election was underway she eagerly attempted to work for the campaign (they rebuffed her as they had California in the bag; she offered that she'd call Montana, whatever it took, but they didn't think such help was needed… she & I then both further convinced of impending failure).
She was horrified but not at all surprised by the outcome. She was savvy and saw it coming, not that our low expectations made it any more agreeable.
She's way long gone, dead far too young, while Trump is the oldest president-elect ever and youngly dangerous, dangerously young Vance is at the ready for the long haul.
I could say something idiotic about this much more mortifying and threatening win and vastly organized, enabled, empowered incoming administration 47 like "I'm glad she ain't here to see this" or some such sh!t but that'd be a lie because there's nothing that'd make me gladder than if instead she still actually were here today.
Read, why, and boo·hoo love 'til tomorrow from here under the ever glaring-sun at the end of the West,
rR
