My contempt was not given freely; it was most definitely earned.
Here we are at last. Tomorrow we will line up outside high school gymnasiums and VFW halls and do our bit. Those lines will be long, most likely. Bring some snacks. It promises to be a grueling day. We'll be voting tomorrow, for a great many things. Prop. 2, Prop. 4, Prop. 5, and Prop. 8 are all very important. Congress and Senate seats are up for grabs. And of course, the race for the White House will finally (finally!) come to a close.

I have a strange perspective on this election season. For years I had wanted to vote for Senator John McCain. You might recall that in 2000 McCain was extremely popular with independent voters. Noted non-conservatives such as Bill Maher and Jon Stewart supported him. McCain enjoyed a chummy relationship with the press. He had a reputation for straight talk, and for taking on the most questionable elements in his own party. Unfortunately, John McCain underestimated just how low those fringe elements would go to undermine his candidacy.

McCain was blindsided by the vicious machinations of Karl Rove, the master strategist, who was acting on behalf of George W. Bush. A sinister whispering campaign served to stir up latent racism, and this was combined with a robo-call carpet-bombing initiative that convinced enough white racists that John McCain had sired a black daughter (gasp!) out of wedlock. This was a fabrication. McCain and his wife Cindy had adopted a young girl from Bangladesh in 1991, and this was the supposed "illegitimate black child" who brought down the McCain campaign. The mere existence of young Bridget McCain was enough "baggage" to convince South Carolina racists that John McCain was, ehhhh, just not enough of a Republican for them. They went with George Bush. Hilarity ensued.

I think that this experience damaged McCain more than he ever let on. He had come so close, but it was his own party that took him out. The Presidency would have been the culmination of a life of public service. He was an American hero from a storied military family. He had dedicated his life to helping others, and had cultivated a reputation for bipartisanship. Reaching across the aisle was not just rhetoric for John McCain. The Clinton years had polarized the country; McCain could bridge the gap. He was a good man, and an honorable one. You might not always have agreed with his positions, but he made you smile while disagreeing with him. He never took himself too seriously. He had an infamous temper, but it seldom flared up in public (behind closed Senate doors was another story). There was a time when we weren't tired of hearing the POW stories, and it was impossible to be unmoved by them. I could never have held out as long as he did. Would I really have turned down a chance at freedom? No way. I wasn't cut out for this man's Army.

McCain held out longer than any of us ever could have as a POW, but his experience in 2000 may have been more damaging. McCain was a broken man after this defeat. He tried to hide it, but the signs were all there. I believe that somewhere, on some level, McCain vowed to never leave himself so vulnerable again. If that meant cozying up to the lunatic fringe on the right, so be it. If that meant subverting his own principles in favor of party dogma, then that's what it would take. Breaking bread with the "agents of intolerance" was no longer looking like such a bad idea. That's what this loss did to him. He had been a decent man, and he should have at least had the chance to be the Republican nominee way back when. A hell of a lot of people would have been excited to vote McCain in 2000. That never happened. America never got John McCain c. 2000.

I had always told myself that if John McCain were running for President, he would get my vote. He was a Republican, sure, but not the kind that I couldn't stand. His positions on immigration and climate change were a whole lot more flexible. He didn't treat immigrants, even the illegal ones, as if they were undesirables. His commitment to campaign finance reform was unprecedented for a Republican. Compromise was in his nature. One of the things I liked the most about him was that so many in his own party couldn't stand him. Anyone who pissed off that many characters on his own side was aces in my book.

And now...now I barely recognize this man who's running for President. I waited so long for this moment, and now I can't even believe I ever liked the guy in the first place.

I remember how I felt on March 4, 2008 when John McCain wrapped up the nomination for the Presidency. This was my guy, after all. He was finally getting the shot that he deserved. Even at this time I was straining to overlook some of my larger differences with the Senator, such as his position on gay marriage and his desire to overturn Roe v. Wade. I don't know why I held out for so long. I really don't know why. Loyalty? I think sometimes that if you spend enough time following the career of a public figure, you think that you know them. Even when you have differences, they feel more like the differences you'd have with a family member. That may be one explanation.

I signed up for e-mail alerts from the GOP website. I made a contribution to the McCain campaign. I felt good. Surely this would be an entertaining campaign, no matter who ran against the Senator from Arizona. I was confident that even if McCain lost, he would at least run a campaign that I could be proud of. He had promised to run a clean contest, and things had already gotten pretty ugly between Clinton and Obama.

I drew up a plan in my mind for the kind of effort I wanted to see, the kind that could win McCain the Presidency. He had to run a positive, dignified campaign free of slander and negative aspersions. He had to distance himself from George Bush. He had to appeal to independent voters. Democrats were not going to be nearly as friendly to him during the general election, but he still had a chance with Independents and undecideds. And finally, he needed to choose a running mate who had some real gravitas and who didn't scare the shit out of those independent voters.

It started off fairly well. McCain promised that he would, indeed, run a clean campaign. He even ordered some of his surrogates to pull an anti-Obama ad that mentioned Rev. Jeremiah Wright. I was pleased. Rush Limbaugh was incensed. Two good results, and we were on our way! This was probably the last time that I was proud of the McCain campaign.

Strange things began to happen. The media began to turn against McCain. Turns out he was only their guy when he was facing off against other Republicans. We all saw that coming, but John never did. It should have been obvious, but he was blindsided again.

Then a curious meme appeared: John McCain would just be "Bush's third term." I thought this was so peculiar. Anyone who followed politics knew that McCain hated Bush with a fiery passion, and why shouldn't he? Bush had been the beneficiary of the robo-calls and the repulsive whisper campaign in 2000. The two men were both Republicans, but they were as far apart politically as it was possible to be and still belong to the same party. I didn't give it much thought.

Then they started in with the "McCain voted with Bush 90-percent of the time" slogan. Not that they really had to dig that one up. McCain handed it to them on a platter. Even then, I still had a stirring defense all ready to go. I was holding on for dear life by this point, but my debate skills never flagged.

Would you like to hear my defense?
"I mean, so what if McCain voted with Bush 90-percent of the time? You can make numbers say whatever you want them to. How strange is it, really? McCain is still a Republican, he's bound to vote with the President the majority of the time. The issue is what things did they agree on and what did they disagree on. As long as it's the right issues, who cares what the percentages say? These guys are all politicians, they're going to vote the same way sometimes! Do Obama and Biden then vote with Bush 0-precent of the time? That's the idea that I get from the rhetoric. But no, Biden votes with Bush 56-percent of the time! Even Obama votes with Bush 40-percent of the time. So the 90-percent figure is more than a little misleading. Weren't these the same people who said that Joe Lieberman wasn't a real Democrat in spite of the fact that he voted Democrat 90-percent of the time? Why is 90-percent proof that McCain is a Bush clone, but Lieberman's 90-percent made him a complete pariah? The answer is that it has to be the right 90-percent, the right votes. I just wanted to show that you have to say more than just the number to prove the point."

Anyway, that was my stirring defense. Turns out I wasting my time. McCain had no intention of distancing himself from George Bush. Quite the opposite, actually.



I call this "McCain's third-biggest mistake." He courted the farthest-right elements of his party, in a year when the Republican brand was pure poison. George Bush was almost the forgotten man during this election, but McCain waited until there were only a few weeks left to put some real distance between them. Too late.

The second biggest mistake was the negative advertising. It was specious, dishonest, undignified, and largely immaterial. The connection to William Ayers wasn't strong and didn't matter to enough people. The Jeremiah Wright controversy was dealt with during the primaries, and McCain didn't even bother with it. There were other ads that were just flat-out dishonest. The accusation that Obama favored legislation that taught sex education to kindergarteners was pure fiction. It just got worse and worse.

And still I held on, mostly out of stubbornness. McCain had been my guy for so long, I didn't want to admit that he'd gone off the reservation so completely. I continued to make excuses. I felt defensive, probably inordinately so. I was seeing a lot of stuff to the effect that "if you're voting for McCain then we can't be MySpace friends anymore." Shit like that. First of all, oooooh big deal, we can't be MySpace pals anymore!. Second of all, fuck you and your childish threats. And it also didn't help that so many people were saying stupid stuff like "he's old and ugly" or "he's senile" and coming up with clever nicknames like "McSame" and "McLame." Stuff like that rarely appeals to me.

Was I overly protective? Of course I was. Like I said, you feel like you know somebody, you're inclined to take up for them if you feel that they're getting short-shrift. It has to be said, even when I was squarely in McCain's corner I never got that worked up about the prospect that Obama might win instead. Either way, it was getting harder and harder to maintain any kind of enthusiasm.

Then I came up with a secret plan: I was going to publicly disavow McCain but still vote for him in secret. It's only one vote, right? As long as I tell people that I'm not doing it, I can still do it in the privacy of the voting booth.

That plan didn't last. It just got to be too much. McCain was becoming an embarrassment. I felt dirty every time I saw one of his ads. I turned off the television when he came on. He spoke with the enthusiasm of a guy recording a ransom tape. I firmly believe that he didn't get to run the campaign that he wanted to, but he still ran it. I don't think that he's a racist and I don't think he believes that Obama is a Muslim. But he enables racists and people who think that Obama is a Muslim, and that's almost as bad. Whatever principles he may have once had, they were now gone.

I know why he did all of this, but knowing the why doesn't make it any more palatable. John McCain came so close in 2000, only to be brought low by agents in his own party. Whatever it was that broke inside him, it was never going to be fixed. He became determined to win at any cost, no matter how it tarnished his reputation and his legacy. The worst part of this fall from grace is that it's all going to go for nothing. The only thing worse than selling your soul is selling your soul and still losing.

I think we all know what his biggest mistake was. Her. She. Sarah Palin. This is the one that did it for me, even though I was pretty much already done. It was all over but the shouting even before McCain picked Palin, but this just crystallized the whole experience for me. She, more than anything else, epitomized the depths to which John McCain would sink. I couldn't take it any more. I couldn't make any more excuses.

And you know what? I shouldn't have to make excuses. In spite of the fact that I'd made myself a promise to vote for McCain if the opportunity ever presented itself, what would be the point? What would be the point of making excuses for someone who I no longer feel any empathy for? I don't agree with Obama on everything either, but the balance had simply shifted too far away from John McCain, and it was never going to shift back.

I'm never going to be a dyed-in-the-wool liberal Democrat, but I do share a lot of their beliefs. There's no use pretending that I don't have these beliefs. There's no use contorting myself with mental gymnastics just to remain loyal to a guy who no longer deserves my loyalty. Mental gymnastics are really tiring. Making excuses for the McCain campaign was too excruciating, and I wasn't being honest with myself anymore.

I don't think that every Republican is a racist and a homophobe, but the reality is clear: more racists and homophobes belong to that party than belong to the Democratic party. Why should I be OK with that? I'm not comfortable with these elements, so why make any more excuses? I'm a grown-ass man. I support a smaller government and a strong defense, but not as much as I support the rights of gays and women. I support the rights of gun owners, but I also think people should be able to smoke weed when they feel like it. I'd rather not have to choose which ones to keep and which to jettison, but there isn't really a party that suits all of my needs. I have to go with the party and the candidate that comes the closest.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw Gen. Colin Powell on Meet The Press. Gen. Powell was making an appearance to announce his endorsement for Barack Obama. Powell gave an incredibly thoughtful interview, making a beautiful case for his endorsement. And it felt like he was reading my mind. He expressed so much of the same disappointment that I was feeling towards John McCain. He made the same observations that I had made about the negativity of the campaign. He expressed great admiration for McCain as a man, but couldn't support him as a candidate for President. So it was with great effort and consideration that he threw his support behind Senator Obama. Powell's friendship with McCain was undoubtedly going to suffer, but something had to give. Powell never fails to impress me.

Rush Limbaugh pounced on the announcement immediately, and said that Powell was supporting Obama because... he's black. Can you imagine? Powell had given such a heartfelt speech, and it obviously pained him to see his friend John McCain acting so shamefully. Endorsing Obama was not a decision made lightly. And all Rush could come up with was that it was done because Obama is black. Pathetic. I didn't really need any more convincing, but if I had this would have done it.

I got one more e-mail from the GOP. I wrote back to them, telling them that they no longer had my vote. I unsubscribed from their newsletter. I sent one last donation to McCain. Loyalty is a screwy thing. That was my parting gift. You can have my donation, but you're not getting my vote.

I'm going to vote for Barack Obama. In case you hadn't noticed, it took me a long time to get here. I don't think he's a perfect candidate, but I do think he's the right one for the times. He's smarter than McCain, and has a more even temperament. He has better ideas. Do I think he can do everything that he's promised? Of course not. I would still rather have a candidate who promised everything and delivered a mere fraction of it than a candidate who promised nothing and also delivered nothing.

There are a lot of reasons it took me this long, and not all of them have to do with loyalty to McCain. I first became really aware of Obama last year when Don Imus was fired. I understood why Imus was in trouble, but I didn't think he should have been fired. Obama did. Even worse than this, though, was that he waited a week to decide. He waited to see how everyone else felt, then decided that he, too, was upset. I thought it was chilling that a soon-to-be Presidential candidate was calling for the firing of a radio host based on a failed joke. I thought it was even lamer that Obama had to wait so long to weigh in if he was really so offended by it. He had clearly considered all of the political options and ramifications, acted on them, and then pretended that was the result of great conviction. Which is fine, butdon't then come out and act like you were really so hurt all along. That was my first negative impression.

I also had a tough time getting past the fans. They can be a little ridiculous. I'll be the first to recognize that Obama's personal magnetism is formidable, but I really have no interest in listening to people tell me that he's "hot." Come on now. Let's settle down. He's better-looking than John McCain, yes. He's thinner, younger, and better-looking than your average Senator, yes. But... hot? Be serious. It's not like he's Blair Underwood or Denzel Washington or Will Smith. You can find his personality attractive and be swayed by his charisma, but "hotness" is based on aesthetics. Aesthetically, he's just OK.

I was annoyed by the slogans. Hope and Change, I know. I get it. Yes We Can, yeah yeah yeah. What else do you have? Those are just t-shirts. What about answers and ideas? Eventually, he did get around to the ideas, and they were pretty good. But the Hope and Change stuff really wore me out. I understood that political slogans are always meant to be simplistic, but this was taking it to the extreme. The rock star stuff was really annoying. I understood where it was coming from, and it was certainly nice to have a candidate who wasn't John Kerry, but it was very exhausting for the vacillating voter that was me.

I was fairly mortified when Jeremiah Wright's comments came to light. I honestly didn't think that Obama would survive that. I saw way too much justification coming from his supporters. It reminded me of my own endless apologias for McCain. Some things are just wrong, and I didn't like hearing excuses for this stuff. Even while I was feeling disgust at the spin, I recognized that this was the same kind of overly-defensive behavior that I was guilty of.

Obama weathered that storm, and weathered all of the others as well. Like I said, I don't think he's perfect. He's said some things that I don't agree with, and he's broken some promises already. This was bound to happen. It will happen more in the future. Politicians are not perfect. But just because a candidate isn't perfect doesn't mean you should choose the even less-perfect option.

Tomorrow morning, April and I are going to pull the lever for Obama. Our support will be there. Once I'm there for somebody, I'm there. I have optimism. It's guarded optimism, but optimism just the same. It won't be a blank check endorsement, nor should it be. I want Obama to succeed in the worst way. I want things to get better. I'm going to pay close attention. If he screws up, I'll say so. If he does good, I'll say so. Here's hoping things get better. You might not know this about me, but I'm a hopeless romantic.

Ultimately, what would make me feel better? Seeing John McCain, a former favorite of mine, use loathsome tactics and pandering to secure a job that he doesn't deserve? Sarah Palin, a spectacularly unqualified fool, as the Vice President? Or Barack Obama, a brilliant campaigner and an even-tempered politician, motivating millions of new voters to get out and make a difference? He might not be a great President, but he's the best choice. After the last eight years, Obama is certainly worth a shot. The potential, at least, is there. He may be great.

What would I rather? Would I rather see racists and homophobes making one last push to keep the Muslim terrorist out of office? Or seeing millions of black Americans weeping openly in celebration, knowing that they had finally arrived? What sends a better message to the rest of the world? What would make me feel better about my country? Even when I was hardcore McCain, I still felt (deep down) that it would be kind of great if Obama won.

I would rather see this woman weeping tears of joy. It's time.



Or, as Rush would say, I'm just voting for Obama because he's black.

P.S. Please vote No on Proposition 8. This is the most important initiative on the ballot.

Celebrity Lookalikes, political roundup edition