Dem. v. Them

I was awakened this morning by some hooting and hollering out in the street. Since I live near Mayor Martin O'Malley, who ran against incumbent Governor Bob Erlich, I supposed the cheering might have been related, so I ran downstairs to see the results.

It's looking pretty good from where I sit, in this semi-comfortable black chair. The Democrats took 21 new seats, and no incumbents lost. The Senate is iffy, however, with a few races too close to call; the Democrats seem to have picked up only four seats in the Senate, though Lieberman doesn't count (for anything, as far as I'm concerned; he's a putz). If Dems don't get those two seats, it could be gridlock in Washington. Good. I hate when they get things done.

At this moment, before the counting of absentee ballots (which Erlich encouraged his supporters to file, just in case there was any "trouble" with the voting machines), O'Malley is ahead by 100,000 votes.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. First, I have never been happy with the way the city has been run, though I do credit O'Malley with having picked some fine city employees; I know a handful who helped me get trees and graffiti removed and park rangers reinstated (a shout out to Kevin Clearly in the Office of Neighborhoods).

Second, I don't dislike Bob Erlich. He's smart, and he seems down to earth. I don't find him, as my husband does, self-righteous. I think he has held his office with a level of maturity you couldn't find with Schaefer, and you probably won't find with O'Malley (that's been my quibble with him from the start of his political career—that he runs off at the mouth without thinking, much less researching). But many believe otherwise, and I'll have to hope they are right.

The worst thing is that the city will now have to contend with Sheila Dixon for eight or so months.

I announced, last night at dinner, that I might be a contender for a city council seat. I don't know what happens there and why things can't get done—why, for instance, Alleys & Footways can't get down to my friend Molly's house and remove the standing green water in her yard; she's only been on the list for ten years. I'd like to see for myself how frustrating and futile it really is. I also want to report the goings on in a city blog, so that people get some idea of that function—or dysfunction, as it may be.

My husband thanked me in advance for dragging our family through the mud. But c'mon, honey; that office is not so fraught with negative campaigning as the higher offices. And what could they say? That I have a blog in which I discuss the virtues of good beer and birds? That I write fictional poetry about kissing other people's husbands? That the sexy picture on my profile looks nothing like me?

After all, it's been years since I've gone out drunk driving, and they never did find that body.