Oh, in the words of Mrs. Chasen, "I should saaaay so!"
Tonight is the final presidential debate and I am equal parts excited and terrified. I've always been superstitious (What? You don't think knocking on wood and doing the sign of the cross prevents tragedy?), so to see the recent poll numbers, which put Obama well ahead of McCain, makes me worry that there's still a chance for an Old-Geezer Upset. On the other hand, the more stable, rational part of my mind (which, admittedly, takes up less space) says, "No way! Our guy's ahead! He's going to do it. He's going to win. You can sleep at night. The Supreme Court isn't going to be overtaken by a cadre of young, Stepfordianly handsome white dudes whose wives wear plaid blazers and whose pals talk about the plight of the unborn." But...but what if too many of the folks polled as Obama supporters suddenly realize he's Black. Will they still vote for him? What if the crazy Right-wingers who love Palin come out in droves? Will that turn the tide in swing states?
So, while I've always been superstitious, I've never been particularly religious, but tonight, and for the next 19 nights, I am praying to the tiny, infant Jesus to wave his magic wand or scepter or trident or whatever the hell he wields and let my guy win. For once.