I was at a brewpub in (the People’s Republic of) Santa Cruz, CA.
I was alternating between talking to a guy at the bar, and admiring the girl next to me’s tattoos, when the whole bar started jumping and screaming. So I jumped and screamed and pounded the bar. Then I realized that we were happy that Obama had won. It ruled. It feels good to win.
I was amazed by Mccain’s concession speech. He shushed the “USA! USA!” crowd. He said what needed to be said – “he’s my president, and yours.” It was perfect.
I was stunned by Obama’s speech. Perhaps most poignant, from some Haitian friends of amnesiadust: “That man is crazy, with his whole family up there with him.”
Then I walked the streets of Santa Cruz, following the sounds of drums. Along the way I ditched my collar shirt to reveal the Obama shirt underneath.
I was interviewed by the local press. I was offered free drinks. I was bumped into by the very, very high. I was photographed by Japanese tourists.
Fireworks were set off.
It was a good night.
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