The real fright night in America this fall is not Halloween. It’s Election Night.
Americans fall asleep at night not afraid that Freddy Krueger will murder them in their sleep, but that somehow he will get elected president this Tuesday. Whether you live in a red or a blue state or one of those dramatically described as a "battleground" state, most of us are damned scared.
And if the winning candidate starts his acceptance speech with "Boo!" half of us will fall over with a heart attack.
There’s one advantage that you Bush people have over those of us supporting Kerry: You might be wrong about Johnny Long Face. If elected, maybe he won’t make Kumbaya our national anthem. Maybe he won’t serve French food in the White House. Maybe he won’t turn every calendar back to Sept. 10.
Those of us who are scared out of our wits by the prospect of having George W. Bush around for four more years already know what we’re in for. Kerry folks already suffered through four nightmare years of Dubya where he invaded the wrong country — wasn’t that the plot of a Marx Brothers movie? You think we want to see the sequel?
I don’t know about you, but on Election Day I’m wearing a sprig of garlic and some wolf bane to protect me. If Dubya wins, I just might keep wearing it for the next four years.
I’ve thought about possibly moving to Canada, where I bet they play more Joni Mitchell and k.d. Lang on their radio stations than they do here. But the culinary prospect of exchanging my unfiltered olive oil for a jug of maple syrup just doesn’t excite me. I’ve got nothing against Canadians, but I shudder to think of living in a country where everyone talks like one of the Flyers after a 2-2 tie.
Then again, my kids and grandkids wouldn’t have to worry about trying to get their employers to pay for their healthcare. Or having the prime minister of Canada suddenly decide that he’s going to invade the easiest country to beat in the Middle East so he can start an experiment in democracy.
It’s not like all the issues are on Kerry’s side. I do admit that the prospect of Teresa Heinz Kerry becoming the First Lady frightens me a bit. There is no one that loves bright, witty women more than me, but bright, crazy witty women scare me. Teresa is as nutty as that fruitcake Aunt Martha sends you every Christmas.
If Kerry gets elected, I would favor a constitutional amendment to limit her access to the new president to conjugal visits. Not that Laura Bush is perfect; she just scares me less (and isn’t that what this election is all about?). Laura has a look on her face right out of Desperate Housewives (the one that decides to serve braised veal shank for lunch while her husband is telling her that he wants a divorce).
But let me be the first Kerry supporter to admit that despite what Teresa said, Laura has had a real job all these years. There can be no greater burden than to sit across from Dubya at the breakfast table every morning while he drops his Gs. It also must be tough to overrule George W. on any household decisions when he always has God on his side.
We are a scared people, baby. Even Bill O’Reilly is scared these days, although since this is a family newspaper, we won’t go into his apparent obsession with things that vibrate. We’re so scared of the terrorists that some of us don’t care if we invaded the wrong country (we’re killin’ Iraqis in order to save them, according to Dubya).
Our election may hinge on who’s scared more — the baby boomers who are afraid there won’t be any Social Security checks for them when they retire, or those of us who are already getting Social Security and are frightened that the checks may be reduced.
Why, these days even the prospect of going through the winter without a flu shot has us positively scared bonkers. Seniors are standing in long lines outside health clinics like they were giving out free tickets to see Pavarotti. I don’t know about you, but Uncle Nunzi is thinking of giving his flu shot to John Street, since the mayor seems very worried about shaking all those hands with germs on them.
All of this makes Election Day a lot scarier than Halloween night — when, for at least some folks downtown, their only dilemma is whether to give KitKat bars to black kids. (Are they too old? Are they really wearing a costume? Do they belong in my neighborhood?)
Trick or treat? We’ll find out Tuesday.
