Good Vibrations Magazine

In many ways presidential candidates are vying to be America’s next lover. It’s no coincidence that they are often described as “courting” voters. They smile at us, compliment us, wink, smear their rivals for our affection. Their campaigns are filled with the equivalent of high school best friends who sidle up to the American electorate telling us how much their friend likes us and extolling their virtues.

And in an election to choose the most powerful person in the world, a campaign involving a shaky economy, two wars, terrorism, and China, it is interesting that an oft-quoted remark about what someone thinks of a candidate is, “I don’t know, I just don’t like her.”

Continuing with this paradigm it is curious to wonder what kind of lovers our candidates are promising to be.

With John McCain we are cast in the role of children to his loving grandparent. He is promising no touching at all. He has come to hold us in the middle of a dark night and rock us back to sleep. He’s old and wise and he’s seen it all before, and much worse at that.

Mitt Romney gives off the asexual freakishness of puritan America. With him we are cast in the role of sexual penitents, apologetic for our desires. Of course, the Republicans have never been the party of sex appeal.

Which brings us to Hillary and Barack.

What is most evident about Hillary is how bad she wants us. Hillary goes to sleep at night aching for the American people. It’s a big, destructive passion. One that drives her to take down anyone that comes near us. Can’t you see Hillary standing outside your house in the rain; sorry she has transgressed, but not doubting for a moment that you belong to her.

There’s something sexy about being wanted like that, perhaps not healthy, but how often do those two go together anyway. Hillary Clinton is like Stanley Kowalski. She’s kneeling at the bottom of the stairs in the rain, torn shirt, screaming our name in a desperate plea. Hillary doesn’t know what to do without us, the American people. This kind of drive, this kind of passion, is something we like when it is found in a man. It launched Marlon Brando to super stardom, men everywhere seeking to emulate his fire and women going soft at the sound of his cry.

But we don’t know what to do when a woman is exhibiting this desire, this fire. Stanley Kowalski knew we liked a little throw down, that we liked it when all the colored lights are going. Stella swooned.

Hillary has turned the tables. Hillary wants to throw America down and ride us hard. There are a lot of people who are uncomfortable with that, just as they’d be uncomfortable with Stella kneeling at the bottom of the stairs in the rain screaming Stanley.

People don’t like Hillary’s ambition. They don’t like that she desires so openly, they find it uncouth, a turn-off. But she is running for President. Is she supposed to walk into that gladiator’s arena smelling like rose water with white lace gloves and draw no blood? It is the fight we demand, and yet we condemn her for it. We are all as Blanche DuBois, needing Stanley’s help but looking down our noses at his crass behavior. Do we really want to rely on the kindness of strangers?

Judging from the success of Barack Obama’s campaign the answer seems to be yes. Barack is promising to make us feel good. He has realized that it is not about the economy, or the wars, but about how American’s feel about themselves. Bush has left us feeling a bit down. Barack is promising us a brighter future.

Just how things are going to get brighter is a little murky. But when your coming out of a bad relationship the way the American people are you just want someone who will make you feel good. You want someone to tell you there is hope. You want someone who will promise away the darkness. And along comes Barack Obama.

He is the lover who has found us weeping in the corner. He puts his arm around us and asks us to tell him all about it. His hand caresses our shoulder. He places delicate kisses along our neck. He tells us he understands.

We’re vulnerable. We don’t know anything about him. But we don’t really want to. We want to fill in all those empty spaces with what we hope he might be, with what we need him to be right now. And he’s happy to let us.

He lets his lips linger upon our cheek until we actually turn to kiss him. He takes us home and he gives some long, slow loving.

That’s nice. We can get our heads around that. It’s especially nice after being tied up and ball-gagged for the past eight years.

Barack is kind of like Brad Pitt’s character in Thelma and Louise. A silk tongue, making us feel good, getting us off for the first time, but what’s he really here for?

The question to ask ourselves when voting is is whom do we want to wake up with the next morning with?

Hillary is going to ravage us, pound down hard on us, leave us gasping. When we awaken we are going to realize that we really do have a woman in charge, and she’s acting like Stanley Kowalski.

Barack is going to be charming, lovely, let us finish first. When we awaken we are going to realize we have no idea who this man is. But if he’s managed to survive the gladiator’s arena of the presidential election he’s got to have some blood on him.

So who are you voting for? I guess it depends on whom you want to wake up with.