It’s fair to say that I hadn’t been this excited about a bit of telly since I caught wind of the Chris Morris ‘special’. The weight of ‘history in the making’ has completely caught me and wrapped me up in the tornado. Will we (the Western World) get the first ever American black president who is the coolest guy since Kennedy? Will we get the first ever woman vice prez? These questions have been gnawing away at my sinews since the whole thing kicked on a gear. It’s clear I haven’t been alone either. The best yardstick to what people are thinking is to repeatedly check Facebook status updates (of course I’ve got one! Poke me if you dare) which have gone from completely boring “is hungover” or “is having a glass of wine LOL” to heaping praise on Barack Obama, with the occasional “don’t see what the fuss is all about” or the completely idiotic “can’t believe everyone is so interested in an election that isn’t even for our own country“. Whatever, people have been caught up in all this for some weeks and of course, I wasn’t alone in bravely trying to stay up for the duration…
When the show kicked in, it became clear that this was the Sky Sports Gillette Soccer Saturday of politics. In fact, I think the BBC should have got Jeff Stelling in on a foreigner. Also clear from the off, it was clear that Jeremy Vine is a complete slag. He’s on everything at the minute. He’s got Peter Snow’s gig, which of course, means pissing about with all kinds of visual aids and explaining things all LIVE! and that. Maybe Peter Snow got the shunt because he’s rubbish at conducting, and thereby, conducting us lot into a foaming gobbed frenzy pack.
Early on in the show, images of the turnout of people… not necessarily at the polls, just generally, was fucking incredible! Thousands and thousands of people out in squares waiting for the results. It was really amazing to see. In Chicago, the assembled throng looked more like a rock gig than a bunch of people waiting for some results. In fact, at Republican HQ, they had a rock group playing Beatles’ covers, which I imagine will have irritated Paul McCartney no end! America, regardless of where the vote lies, is obviously a country in love with the political system again. British politicians have no doubt been taking reams and reams of notes to turn our apathy into this giddy excitement we’ve all been showing.
Throughout the night, the top left of the screen had a recurring countdown clock, which, during my various moments of manic tiredness, felt somewhere between a Doomsday Clock and a countdown to the party. In a weird way, it felt like the times I’d stayed awake watching Quizmania and other tat like that, with a flurry of things counting down, weird statistics, a blizzard of information all designed to keep my eyes prised open without me knowing what they meant. At some points, I was so bombarded with numbers and graphics that I nearly picked up the phone to dial random numbers with invented quiz answers… “Hi Debbie… the answer is Sausages…“.
However, it didn’t matter how ridiculous things got, I just focused on the bottom left of the screen. All that mattered was which ticket got the most numbers.
One ridiculous thought shot through my head when I saw McCain stood on plane addressing his pals. What would happen if John McCain was in a crash and the oxygen mask dropped from above and he couldn’t reach up to grab with his old, tired, disabled arms? Would he have to try and grab it with his teeth like a dog trying to nip a tennis ball on string? Another ridiculous thing I found myself doing was, when the show focused on the votes coming in from The South, I tucked my hair behind my ears to fashion my ‘do into a mullet. It’s worth noting that in the British elections, I don’t perm my hair for the results from Merseyside or write furious letters of complaint when the pundits look at the Home Counties (Britain’s Bible Belt).
The live nature of the show enabled some brilliantly shoddy telly, with people fluffing their lines. At one point, Jeremy Vine went slightly Yardie when he said “Demo[i]claat[/i]“. At another point, the panel were all chunnering away and you could clearly see a bloke crawling around on his hands and knees behind someone like some weird scurrying vermin.
Naturally, I mainly stuck with the BBC whose coverage, by and large, was brilliant. Flicking over to ITV1 was a different prospect altogether. John Suchet is the man chosen to head-up their coverage. When you consider that he’s also the host of the new version on Going for Gold on Five… you get the picture. ITV’s coverage was stale and spectacularly dull. The only fun thing about the ITV coverage was the fact they spoke to a guy called Lollie Bunch. Worse still was the Sky News coverage. Jeez. Flicking between Dimbleby’s lively patter to some droning old ham was staggering. Some guy talked reeealllly sloooowly before handing over to a guy tittering at a touchscreen that didn’t work. Rubbish. BBC is king.
What was weird was that, after Ohio was called, McCain’s party began talking in the past tense when talking about the campaign. However, I wasn’t so confident. I stayed up to watch the Kerry vrs Dubya bout, and I went to bed knowing Georgie had lost and woke up to his victory speech. This was not the time to count chickens. Weirdly, just about everyone else in the world was totally counting all kinds of bird, pretty much tootling off to bed (Facebook again, lights going off in living rooms on my street) glad about the Obama ‘result’. Even the people on TV sounded like they knew he was in. I was paranoid. Checking the TV, scouring various websites and livefeeds… I couldn’t leave anything to chance. That said, the conspiracist in me couldn’t stop thinking about Gotcha Palin’s weird decision to reserve her right to a confidential ballot… did she vote Choom? Surely not!
Whichever, it was weird to see such overwhelming support for Barack Obama. At 3am, there had virtually been no support for McCain outside of party insiders. Barack? He had the support of his team, independent onlookers, the Brits… and every celebrity wheeled on, which included Eddie Izzard and Ricky Gervais. Even though they can’t vote, it certainly gave the Barack ticket a huge hessian sack of cool. It was hardly surprising that as the night drew on, my tension grew and others, presumably people who have proper jobs, went to bed, and so to did the often amusing Pro-bama updates. However, it seemed those sticking it out were following the same pattern as me: Notably snacking through the night and glued to the box. One super-cool gal I know, Laura Bentley, declared “I’m getting fat for Obama” which is probably the greatest slogan on the Brit-spectator ever written.
After a tense wait, it finally happened. Barack Obama was announced as the victor. It was a quite unbelievable moment. If you consider just how short the time was when black people weren’t even allowed to vote in America, to the dream coming true, it’s a phenomenal outcome. The scenes that broke out in the huge gatherings, the rapturous singing in small gatherings… it was certainly worth waiting up for. Hell, they even went stir crazy in Kenya, dancing around, welling up with happiness and grooving to Afrobeat. It was almost to surreal a thought to process initially. This was real, proper history in the making. This wasn’t some cruddy record being broken, it was one of those rare moments that people will ask where you were when America got its first black president. Just saying it over and over. Black American President. It sounds great.
I know it’s not all about race, but it’s something there’s no getting away from. It’s an incredible thing and shows how far America has come! Of course, being a cynic, a passing thought was “don’t fuck it up now Barry…”. He’s got a super tough job to do. There’s still a war to deal with. There’s still economic instability… but for now, it all pales into nothing. Thoughts passed too, to the passing of his Grandma, and the huge piece of history that had just been carved.
McCain was first up with the speech. He was gracious and magnanimous in defeat and acknowledged that this result shows just how far America has come from the dark days of racism. McCain was even big enough to quieten the boos when mentioning his name. As for someone I’ve done nothing but take the piss out of, I was surprisingly impressed by him in defeat. Dimbleby referred to McCain’s parting shot as a “handsomely generous speech”. Someone who wasn’t half as pleasant was the hilariously erratic and bonkers Gore Vidal who gatecrashed my tired and elated mind with some barbed comments that would have made Mark E. Smith glow… but then…
Cue Barack Obama, the President Elect:
“If there’s anyone out there who still doubts whether America is a place where all things are possible, tonight is your answer.”
“Americans have sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of individuals, we are and always will be the United States of America.”
“It’s been a long time coming, but change has come to America.”
Cue a speech that you’ll be able to read in full elsewhere that left barely a dry eye, which was genuinely stirring and emotional. Filled with hope and power.
It was clear that this was a wonderful moment in televisual history. I could talk about the coverage by the BBC, which was really rather good, but it kinda seems redundant. The biggest aspect in terms of TV was that it enabled me, some Limey with an interest in the world, a chance to witness one of the most important events in the world. Whether you’re left or right wing, there’s no denying that this situation is monumental. As I’ve always been signed up to the Barack ticket, this was the most profoundly moving things I’ve ever set eyes upon. America has a new president… America has flourished and shrugged off that awful image that it’s had for the past eight years. America, for a pop-culture fiend like me, really speaks to everyone’s hearts again.
List of provisions
1500 x Cigarettes consumed
14 x Cups of tea
6 x Cups of coffee
1 packet of Maryland cookies (rrp 85p)
1 packet of Cheese Doritos
2 x Ulker chocolate bars from a Turkish supermarket
3 x pints of Robinson’s cordial
8 x Number of indigestion tablets I wish I had
