So Achingly Authentic

I’d promised not to think too much about the election between heading to bed and the morning’s rise.  This, as stated in the last entry.  There was other news.  Imagine that.  Other news occurred that had nothing to do with the U.S. election last night and it was a pleasure to be distracted.  In my Inbox this morning was a link and a note from my mom suggesting I take a look at Michelle Obama’s recent speech. I listen to what mom says, and clicked on it, noticing at the same time that it had been referenced in all the major papers.

Wow. Once again she effortlessly channeled power, plausibility, sincerity, in a manner that cannot be ignored.  She is so clearly the equal to her husband’s gravitas and I don’t think we’ve ever had a couple anything like this pair before in the White House.  The First Lady reminded everyone of the basics; that this behavior was below human decency and certainly well below the office of the presidency.  You can’t brag about predatory behavior, brush it off as boasting and serve as a role model for anyone.  It is almost impossible for someone who has had that much time in the limelight as her to remain so achingly authentic.  I certainly don't know this woman, but her power lies in her ability to be everywoman; she is every descent woman I’ve ever met who reluctantly but candidly speaks about sexual assault, what it meant to her as a human, a wife, a mom . . . and this was enough.  

This is the second time this cycle where her contribution seemed to hover above the fray and speak to something worthy of emulation, worthy of inspiration, something beyond a sharp rejoinder or a latest slip up, failing, or outrage.   I suspect we haven’t seen the last of Michelle Obama.  For the country’s sake, I hope not.  I don’t know to what extent she’d be interested in the job but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one watching her inspire this crowd, thinking she’d make an unbeatable second female president.  

Now it’s a cab ride home and the city is bathed in smog.  It’s the first time in a while that the air has been this bad.  Here we go.  The winter is coming.  The coal heating isn’t even on yet.  Me and every single person own the city would like to get away from this today.  I see it all the faces out there on TianBei Lu.  I don’t have too many more of these Beijing seasons left in me. This time round I feel done before it even begins.  Once again I note that I can see the air as made out of the particles the hover with the oxygen.  Air as a composite material in the space between me and everywhere I look off to.