my first presidential rally

I went to a Barack Obama rally downtown today.

This doesn’t mean I support Obama, nor does it mean I support McCain. I’ve assumed the stance of an Independent this election, though my voter registration card (and brief voting history) would tell a different story.

This was an experiment in observation.

I’ve never seen a U.S. President (or candidate) in person.

Perhaps, when Palin and McCain come back around, I’ll see them, too, though last time, I opted for Jim, and I wasn’t disappointed with that decision.

The gates opened at 7:30 a.m., and by the time we arrived at 7:40, we were about a quarter mile down from the entrance and wrapped around a corner, amongst a sea of people. The political evangelists must’ve arrived at 5 a.m.

I guessed early on that about 80 percent of the people in line were under 25, but the age diversity leveled off as the morning went on and the crowd got bigger. I commented how young people (myself included) have little historical perspective, something my Dad has been quick to remind me of during our lively exchanges this season.

My generation has been too busy having everything handed to us on a silver platter.

Obama’s speech was set right outside city hall, with a couple kids hanging on GR's giant signature artwork while Secret Service guys kept watch on the roofs of surrounding buildings. Someone opened with a prayer, throwing out a heap of pious language that sounded distant, like the monotone King James Scriptures read to us in Sunday School.

A few local politicians spoke; a small plane buzzed overhead, dragging a sign to vote for another local politician. Time passed, I sent photos and emails as a play-by-play of sorts.

The crowd got excited.

They chanted for Obama and change.

They waived signs.

Obama was introduced by a local blue collar worker hit by these hard times, who, bless his heart, made a few nervous mistakes telling his story, “My husban—wife,” and, “I’m looking forward to retiring my wife…retiring with my wife.”

We’ll give him some grace. I’d probably stand up there and just stare at everyone.

Sometimes I can't even play a guitar in front of people without shaking.

Obama came out to energetic music and an equally energetic crowd. Hands holding cameras and cell phones flooded the air. He spoke about the bailout plan, the bleeding auto industry, economic policies, health care, government reform, Iraq, hitting all the stops on the campaign trail.

If you watch the news, the media is pretty much predicting an apocalypse.

The debate on Friday night literally put me to sleep after an exhausting week of work. I’ve been having discussions with people I trust, talking politics over hot drinks, reading a book or two, watching the news, paying attention for the first time in years.

But something doesn’t sit right with me on either side.

I will vote on November 4.

But we’ve pigeon holed each other. I don’t like labels. It’s like playing the gnome game at a carnival. You can hit some issues right, but others inevitably pop up.

Honestly, I wish there was more to say.

I thought the rally would be a bit livelier, but it is West Michigan.

I thought there would be better stories to tell.

But if you’d heard one speech, you’ve heard them all.

I felt like I could lip synch portions of it.

I’d feel the same for McCain and Palin.

After the rally, someone said they experienced an emotional, not rational response to Obama’s speech. We've become enamored with the idea that either candidate will make everything new.

Maybe those of us who hope in Jesus have lost hope in real change. Obama made a comment saying that we are the change. We control our own destiny.

For some, it’s easier to believe in a tangible in-the-flesh politician than a Jesus who rose from the dead, and called the rest to do the same, spiritually speaking.

But I guess we’ll all have our say when November comes.