Over the past two years my feelings toward President Obama have gone through a number of stages.
1. Denial. I didn’t think Barack Obama was ready to be president in 2008. I thought he had a huge potential but needed a few more years of seasoning — needed the kind of experience that would make him less prone to go along with Clinton-era financial gurus, and less dependent on the policy advice from best-and-brightest political advisors who adhere to the national Democratic Party like barnacles. But Obama’s change and hope pitch put me into denial about my original estimation of him. I convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to change the status quo, and would give Americans greater hope for the future/
2. Anger. When Larry Summers and Tim Geithber emerged as President Obama’s main economic team I started to get angry. These guys? I thought. This is change? When the new president chose to focus on health care reform instead of reforming Wall Street I got angrier. When he gave every senator with a health care twitch a veto over this new legsilation I got angrier still. By the time he caved to the military on Afghanistan I was fuming.
3. Bargaining. But then the thought struck me that maybe I was being too hard on the man. Maybe he was just saving his best shots for later battles. I began bargaining in my own head, arguing there over whether my disappointment and anger were justified, or was I being too harsh. Maybe, as he and his people endlessly implied, no one could do better under the circumstances.
4. Depression. Then I just plain got depressed. Watching his pre-election travels around the country and his attempts to convince voters again that he really was a bringer or change and hope was like watching an endless re-run of “It’s A Wonderful Life” — a film that would have you believe that bankers are our best defense against greedy people who would turn the country into one vast Pottersville. An even deeper depression followed from Obama’s “compromise” with Republicans on taxes. Reports that he believes that this “compromise” will put a “recovery” he actually believes is underway on a firmer footing rendered me virtually comatose.
5. Acceptance. Screw it. I got mine and will make out no matter who’s in the White House. The country will survive, too. With luck, the erosion of our economy, our political system, our place in the world, might even just continue to slide gradually rather than take a catastrophic plummet. And what the heck. If Obama ends up running against Sarah Palin in 2012, I might even vote for him — just so long as he bags the phony change and hope rap.
More from this writer at wallstreetpoet.com