President Obama Wins 2012 - Tod und Verklärung
Tod und Verklärung (Death and Transfiguration): Tone Poem for Orchestra by Richard Strauss
It began as he stepped on the
podium and allowed the tuning of instruments to continue. He looked into the distance and measured a
rising tide that began flooding the arena.
His eyes moved to his first chair performers, The Wife and
children. In a short riff, they were established
as a leitmotif that had traveled with
and through him during his continued journey.
A crescendo began to rise as he moved to his core. This was the foundation designed to maintain
and support the moving parts. These were
the voices which persistently reestablished themes and missions of the
movement.
It would seem as if somewhere in
the past, at some point, someone said, “This is the score. These are the instruments. And here are the numbers
you play. You don’t improvise.” There was buy-in, discipline, and the will to
win.
There was Joe Biden, introduced
on a strong downbeat and given levity to improvise and perform at will. In the crescendo that followed was another unspoken
yet strident undercurrent that continued resonating. Who, having heard it, will forget the
word? Arithmetic! It was heard once, echoed and remained a background
four stroke riff. It functioned as
accepted truth to spoken and unspoken questions. On this night, there was a warm feeling on
realizing that President Clinton probably backed off and again allowed
President Obama the evening.
The concert was a litany of four
years with great frustrations, but greater successes in many areas. As it continued, and people began to see and
understand what had been accomplished, with so little cooperation from “the
other side,” a crescendo began to rise.
With total control of momentum, and nuance, there were times of quiet
awe as well as explosive response. It remained
measured until, by design, the crescendo of the moment reached its peak. It held for a while and then dissolved. People turned and looked into each other’s
eyes. There was quiet acknowledgement
and accepted peace. Old and young faces, some with prayerful hands folded,
others embracing, or sitting with a head resting on another shoulder. There were those looking into the distance,
unfocused, accepting and quiet. Asian, Hispanic,
White, Black, all those bodies looking, saying, first softly to themselves, “We
did it.” Then, they exploded.
In back rooms, another dynamic began as voting counts
continued to roll in with blue waves breaking up red sands. Properties, lives, identities were being unraveled,
lost and unrecoverable. Heads looked up
into flaming skies, and with wailing voices cried aloud, “Why, God?” “Why, me?”
The God of Reason took a graceful
moment and allowed the leitmotifs to reveal themselves. Simple short strophe sounds. No Latinos, No Blacks, No Asians, No Young
People, No Jobs, No Colleges, No . . . .The Death and Transfiguration has begun.
