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Home > Family & Lifecycles > Presidency hinges on a Boca Bubbe

Presidency hinges on a Boca Bubbe

Staff Writer
November 17, 2000

There was a time when my son, Vajih, would awake with a loving hug and a gentle "Boker tov, Ema," as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. At some point last week, this tender ritual was robbed from our lives. The day now begins with a raw and urgent, "Did we get a president yet, mom? Did Gore win yet? How many votes is he behind?"

I miss the quiet mornings we used to share, and I am saddened by the state our country seems to be in right now. As odd as the entire presidential election event is this time around, however, I can't help but shake my head in hysterical irony. How more utterly stereotypically Jewish could this thing possibly be?

If someone would have written a fictional novel about this, the unbelievable surrealism would have been too far out there to read. Think about it.

The drama! Just when we thought the drawn out debates and campaigning were over, the election goes on for days, and God forbid, weeks, or more! Everyone has something to say, everyone has a new idea to try, everyone thinks everyone else's idea is the absolute wrong solution. And it goes on and on…

The kvetching! Campaign funding was sought through questionable measures to begin with. Someone surreptitiously delivered insider information to the other team. The ads misrepresented candidates and their opponent's motivations. The ballots, of course, weren't fair. But they were approved prior to the election. So, then they weren't counted correctly. So and so did something wrong. Recounts are the only way to go, but they aren't impartial. The courts rule, but the state attorney general protests. Recounts are ordered, then blocked. Everyone on every side is crying foul, and there seems to be no end in sight.

The law suits! When in doubt, sue! When doing so, make sure that the drama continues into every courtroom in the state, no, nation. That judge after judge excuses him/herself from responsibility. That every decision is contested and appealed. At least three times.

The oral history! Wake up to the morning news report. Listen to the conversations of those you pass on the street, or meet on the train, or exchange a word with at the store. Rehash and retell the story repeatedly at the breakfast table, on the commute to work, on lunch hour, on the way home and at dinner. Add a new element whenever possible, and keep track of the expanding tale. This isn't gossip, its historical information, after all!

And, the most ironic thing of all is the most poignant. The entire fiasco may end up boiling down to the ballot of someone's Bubbe in Boca. Nothing else could be more perfect.

As I pull my son to me for his morning hug, I can't help but hope I will soon sound as if I'm narrating a Hollywood classic. "Yes, Vajih, there is a president." Until then, will someone please pass the popcorn? This has the makings of a long feature.

©, 2000. May not be reproduced without written permission.

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