The national orgasm

Suffering from visual obfuscation syndrome (easily duped by flashy footage), I listened to President Barack Obama’s inaugural address on the radio. Obama, by my reckoning, frequently tells the truth (a presidential first since Jimmy Carter), unless he’s talking about Israel, health care, Iraq, Afghanistan or Wall Street.

I thought Obama showed real daring by saying we are a nation of Christians and Muslims before he mentioned Jews, surely a slap on the wrist of Israel for committing crimes against humanity and genocide right before the inauguration. He said we’re in crisis because we’re shortsighted and greedy, and he exhorted us to take action to make the world a better place.

Say what you will about Obama’s Clintonian Cabinet, the guy is smarter than any president we’ve had in my lifetime, and he obviously loves his wife, something we haven’t seen on public display since Jimmy and Rosalind.

I heard the new president’s call to action, and so rode my bicycle to town rather than drive my truck, thus saving gas and helping the environment. And everywhere I went people were talking about the Obamas. Not about his speech, but about how he enjoys living with his mother-in-law, wife Michelle’s fashion choices, which kind of dog they’re going to get (I think they should get two), and Aretha Franklin’s hat, among many other things, none having to do with the economy, foreign policy or health care.

Pedaling home, I came upon a man and woman picking up litter. They had filled three big bags with cans and bottles and fast-food containers. I thanked them profusely. They said they were heeding Obama’s call to action.

I arrived home fiercely determined to make egg-salad sandwiches. I opened the cupboard to get out the little pot for boiling eggs, and to my astonishment found the lid on the pot. Not the ill-fitting replacement lid, but the actual matching lid that had been missing for two years. I had ransacked the house looking for this lid. To no avail. Yet here was the lid. And I couldn’t help but attribute this miraculous reappearance to Obama becoming president. Even now, weeks into Obama’s presidency, I still believe the lid was sent back from the dimension of anti-matter as Universe’s way of saying “Yes We Can.”

Lest you think I’m being facetious about the “national Obama orgasm,” as Bruce Anderson of the Anderson Valley Advertiser describes the current infatuation with all things Barack and Michelle, let me refer you to recent discoveries in quantum physics confirming that consciousness precedes everything that manifests on the material plane. Thus, if we are to ever experience the long-awaited spiritual and economic recovery, such renaissance will manifest because our collective consciousness continues to have national orgasms, if you will, with our new leader and his wife. Let us hope and pray (unless you’re a nonbeliever) these national orgasms are frequent and cross-cultural and deeply satisfying for everyone on the planet.