Until

One of my early childhood memories is of me and my brother jumping on our parents' bed chanting "Jimmy Carter for President! Jimmy Carter for President!" Somehow I knew that my mom and dad had voted for him and that he had something to do with peanuts which meant, of course, that he had Snoopy's endorsement so he deserved a little jumping on the bed. And later a Nobel Peace Prize.

This time next week we will have a new President. I use that phrase a lot: "this time tomorrow it will all be over," before a dreaded day, "this time next week, this time next month." In truth we don't know in what time it will be over, or really what it is. A recession, a depression, the malaise of a country, a pock-marked zitty zeitgeist, a spirit that sags. And so we must make plodding symbolic steps toward the finish line, baby steps mostly, marking time until. Until--that's the end of that sentence.
But next week. This time next week. It's a big step, the Inauguration, both symbolically and literally. And I plan on marking it with HOPE. You can, too. Check out Obamicon.Me and make your own poster in the now iconic style of Shepard Fairey. Jump on your bed. Eat peanuts, look for a job, jump on your bed some more. Until. This time next week.