Don’t know about that Christmas in October thing.

Can anyone tell me what am I supposed to be feeling now ?

How strange this last month has been. Suddenly, (and finally) it is a good time to not be a Republican in this country. What, with Tom Delay getting indicted in Texas, Bill Frist getting in trouble with the SEC for possible insider trading, polls for Bush sinking below the 40 percent line, the conservatives getting all riled up against one another over the Miers’ nomination, and the White House in a state of panic over impending indictments in the Plamegate affair, one could think that we are already just a few days short of December 25th —Fitzmas in October indeed.

But then, this October is also, well, one year after last October. October 2004. Yeah, that October. Do you remember what you were doing at this time of the year last year? Do you remember how you felt?

I felt like Christmas would arrive early then too. I was sure Christmas would magically happen on that morning of November 3rd, 2004, the day after the election and the defeat of the Bush administration. So I was busy doing whatever I could do to make that miracle happen—canvassing on Saturdays (waking up at 5:30 am to catch that damned bus to PA, the long rides back and forth); phone-banking from here in NYC, or canvassing for Barbaro (who was hoping to defeat the only NYC Republican US Representative) in Bay Ridge; going to my DFA meetups in the Village; going to fundraisers hosted by the Billionaires for Bush; and of course, blogging and obsessing over that Internet site I can’t recall the name of just now, but it had that map with the blue states and the red states according to the very latest polls--the Electoral Projector, that’s how it was called. Yep, that one. Every single morning for I don’t know how long, the very first thing I did when I woke up was to click on that site and stare at it dreamingly as I drank my first cup of coffee.

I could just sooooo see it blue!

I was just so hopeful.

Then that morning of November 3rd arrived, and it was not Christmas. Not Christmas at all. More like the opposite of Christmas, whatever that day is called. (The Day every kid is told that Santa Claus doesn’t exist)?

To me, it was the Day of Utter Disbelief. I remember how stunned I felt. That same night, I went to my DFA meetup, and there we all were, all with that same stunned look on our faces. The despair was thick too. And several pairs of red, puffy eyes were all too visible.

And the day after that was even worse because not only it still wasn’t Christmas, it was my birthday. It took three friends of mine to get me out of my house and to drag me to the Japanese restaurant up the street so that they could tried to cheer me up as I cried in my miso soup.

Needless to say, that birthday was anything but happy, and no one dared singing “happy birthday”.

So, what am I supposed to feel now, as things, well, seems to be going better, so much better?

Well, it has been a strange year since. Feels like a millions years. And I realize now, as I am waiting again for Christmas in October, how much energy and hope that last October sucked out of me. How bleak the future has been looking since.

So on the one hand, a part of me feels really good at the news these days. It does look like something big is about to happen. It does look as if the Super Spin Show is finally unraveling, and that even those who never (god forbid!) thought about peeking behind the show’s curtain now have no choice but to see all the tricks, the phoney bells and fake blue skies for what they truly are: a cover-up for this administration utter lack of talent--nay, even worse, for its utter lack of interest in the audience that pays for the show.

But somehow I just don’t feel as happy as I thought I would be. I mean this is coming pretty close to my own private 4 ½ years old political fantasy, one that has sustained me for all those months—something that involves handcuffs and Karl Rove, prison bars and Tom Delay , the sudden and irrevocable disappearance of Dick Cheney (I’m open to the means by which that occurs), and, left alone in the big White House, a lost President resident. Scared. Drunk, maybe; barely able to walk straight. Totally swagger-less , that’s for sure.

Still, and I don’t want to sound like a spoiled brat, but it all feels a bit too late. Twelve months too late, to be precise. I also feel like it’s almost too much. I mean, did we really need to have the whole government collapse in order for everyone to realize that these guys are corrupted, arrogant, incompetent, and dangerous?

Maybe it is just that there was something about believing that we could defeat them—in contrast to having them just falling apart so gracelessly? Maybe I am too demanding, and wanted nothing less that complete electoral defeat. Damn my imaginary electoral map!

But then, there is always next October. October 2006. Yeah. I can see it. I can start to feel it. It will be Christmas soon again next year…

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