I’ll keep this short. I’m sure you’ve heard enough.
Down and out, frustrated, annoyed, quiet, irritated – Philadelphia moves on past a primary that meant little-to-nothing in deciding who will face John McCain in November. Barack Obama, who trounced Clinton in the City of Brotherly Love by 130,000 votes, lost in the statewide contest by twice that number.
Philadelphia received non-stop media focus for six weeks. One couldn’t walk two blocks in this town without being asked to pledge an allegiance. In front of City Hall, Clinton and Obama supporters waved signs at cars, peacefully coexisting and almost ignoring each other in their drive for honks and cheers from taxi drivers and police officers. For a moment, it seemed like history was going to be made here. And then, as the results doomed this primary like the groundhog predicting weeks of bitter winter, a faint flicker of hope blinked from the Wachovia Center: The Philadelphia Flyers, ignorant of the political fervor around them, sent the Washington Capitals home on a bus, back to the city that created this mess.
Call it trivial and excuse my language, but ‘fuck yeah.’
And that’s all I have to say.