It was much quieter, but people still clapped everytime a state was called for Obama, when CNN finally called it for Obama, and big cheers when John McCain conceded.
Afterwards I went out to catch a bus back to my car - instead I followed the growing crowd up Pike to Capital Hill. It was amazing, people were so enthused, whooping and hollering, chanting 'Yes We Can', and high fiving each other - I hadn't realized it until I saw it on everyone else's face, I was in shock, we were all in shock, a happy, happy shock!
Do you know that feeling you get when you are alone and you think someone might be watching you (no, not paranoia, the other one)? Chills go up your spine, the air gets colder and your hair stands up on end. This is like that only the chills work their way up from your chest, catch in your throat and come out your mouth as a whooping sound and a smile. It is infectious.
You would think the people sitting in their cars, getting nowhere due to the insane throng of people would be upset. Instead they had their hand out for high-fives, they were whooping 'Obama' and they were beeping their horns in time to a 'Yes We Can' chant.
The throng stopped at Broadway and Pike where the roads were closed off to cars by the police people were on each others shoulders, people were dancing and drumming and drinking and yelling. It was like a recess from the school of reality. I hung around for about an hour, watching, whooping, smiling. I considered going to the gas station at the corner and get some beers like everyone else. I could picture drinking until I vomited out all the euphoria that was inside of me. Instead I walked back to Fremont from Capital Hill, OK so maybe I floated.
I almost don't want to go to sleep. In some ways I think this might be too much change - a critical mass of change that won't stop growing until the universe explodes from it. I would not be surprised to find that when I wake up tomorrow morning, people will be riding unicorns to work, unicorns that shit nuggets of rainbow colored candy!
My hope for the next year (and I have the audacity to hope this) is that the slow pace of politics will be faster than the pace of disillusionment.