November 12, 2008


In my dream last night, the Obama whitehouse turned the national mall into a giant skate park. There were magnets under the ground to keep you from falling off your board. Even on the rocks and grass. You could skate anywhere and it was magic. Along the mall there were little stations with ziplines where people who were paraplegic and amputee veterans and severely disabled people could go and get hooked up to a skateboard, and then attached to the zipline, so they would fly down the zipline so they could hit the sidewalk fast and skate around even though they could not push themselves. The magnet made it so they could skate too. Also, when I skated past the front lawn, there were people getting their picture taken with a drag Nancy Reagan.

I hope my dream comes true. I feel like it's possible. I feel like a lot of impossible is possible now. Including but not limited to an amputee skate park at the Lincoln memorial. As a Chicago author who has trouble quitting smoking and member of a progressive UCC congregation and someone who is bummed on America's foreign and domestic policy, I feel exceedingly well represented. But the rad thing, the christmas magic is that I think everyone feels same-same, like the president is your dude. I KIND OF STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I GET HAPPY EVERYTIME I SEE HIS FACE. HE IS OUR DUDE. I WATCHED THAT VIDEO OF HIM MAKING TUNA SALAD AND THOUGHT "THATS HOW ME AND MY DAD MAKE TUNA SALAD TOO!" AND FELT BONAFIDE EXCITEMENT. P.S. I LOVE RAHM EMANUEL TOO IN PART BECAUSE HIS NAME SOUNDS LIKE SPREADING FROSTING, ALL THOSE SOFT VOWELS IN A ROW ARE SOOTHING.


Posted by jessica hopper at November 12, 2008 01:57 PM | TrackBack