My Hope For America

I don't know if you know this, but every day I try to write interesting descriptions of what's going to be in the local newspaper tomorrow, and email these descriptions to various local radio stations. Then the DJs record themselves reading these descriptions aloud and broadcast the recordings to the Indianapolis area throughout the following day.

I work for the newspaper, see. Most people think you're a reporter when you say that, especially if you say you're a writer in the previous breath, but I'm not a reporter at all, just some guy with an unfortunately confusing job description. So, official recap: I write for the paper, but I don't *write for the paper.* Okay?

And I want this election to go into overtime. It's not because I want John Kerry to put up a good fight and affirm my fierce desire for this nation in which I live to not be yet overrun with isolationist warmongering troglodytes. Though I do want that. And it's not because I want the voting public, which turned out in record numbers, to stay engaged in the democratic process just that much longer, thereby more firmly cementing their commitment to be involved in the nation's, and ultimately the world's, future. Though I do want that as well. It's not even because I want my employer to sell more newspapers and improve its financial standing, which could in some way later trickle down to benefitting me and mine. Which would be fine too.

It's for me. I wrote some really great stuff for the radio people to read tomorrow if the election isn't decided by presstime tonight, and if it *is* decided, that stuff won't run. Ever.

So here you have, in one historic tipping point evening, not just the fate of 250 million people, at least, hanging in the balance, but a perfect encapsulation of what truly motivates your average writer.