A week from tomorrow, the day I've been waiting for finally arrives. The make-believe gunfighter turns over the keys to the new guy, who will then have to start picking up the toys and cleaning up the ungodly mess. The same losers who believe W kept us safe for seven years will be standing on the sidelines waiting for the new guy to fail, and he might, considering the dimensions of the problems he's being handed.
Still, my official position is one of quiet, cautious hopefulness with a side order of wait-and-see. At a minimum, change is in the air -- with W, there's been a constant sense that regardless of circumstances, things would eventually get worse. Hope has just been a word that rhymes with "rope", "nope", and "dope."
I don't have any illusions that Obama will perform miracles, but right now, in the week leading to his inauguration, I'm still able to hope he'll have some success in getting those stains out of the carpet and that stink out of the air. Even that sliver of optimism is a nice change of pace.
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