
Imagine the moment when a news anchor will say, "Based on all our projections, we can now say that the United States of America has elected its first woman president ..."
If you're old enough, think back to how you felt in 1984, when you heard that Walter Mondale had picked Geraldine Ferraro to be his running mate. Remember what it was like when she stood up to accept the nomination, and for a moment there were no limits to what was possible. Sally Ride was flying into space; Gerry Ferraro was running for vice president. All of a sudden it seemed true after all: Women could do anything.
Now, multiply that feeling by a thousand, and imagine how it will feel when a woman stands up to accept the Democratic presidential nomination--the first woman to be nominated for the presidency by either party.
And then multiply that by a thousand, and think of election night 2008. Imagine yourself turning to your daughter, or your mother or sister, or your niece or grandmother or granddaughter, and saying:
If she can do this, then the world really has changed.
And across the globe, in every language women speak, as the pictures travel and the word spreads, as those voices are heard, billions of girls and women will turn to each other and say the same thing, and the world will never be the same.
This is an argument for that night.
It is an argument for how we can get there.
For what all of us have to do to make it happen.
The following people are not real. (Although any resemblance to real people is entirely intentional.)
BERT: It's suicide. She'll win two states.
BARBARA: I hope Judith is paying you a fortune, Susan.
BERT: Maybe we should invite her for dinner?
BARBARA: After all those makeovers ...
BERT: You want to imagine something? Imagine the Supreme Court with nothing but conservatives for the next fifty years, because we gambled wrong ...
BARBARA: Bert says it 's okay to make him a character as long as you don't tell people you've convinced him, because you haven't. And make sure you don't use our real names.
Remember Harry and Louise, the doubting-Thomas couple from those ads attacking Hillary Clinton's health care plan? Bert and Barbara are my Harry and Louise. If they were real, they might be my best friends.
You can't win, Bill Clinton said the other day, talking just to people who agree with you. You have to meet the arguments of people who start out on the other side.
That's music to the ears of a law professor.
When you're talking about Hillary, it's easy to find people to argue with. Most Democrats I know, even the ones who like her, are up in the air about Hillary. I've never been attacked like I have since I started telling people what I was writing about--and I live where it is very, very blue.
Bert and Barbara are actually more positive about Hillary than some other people I know. My friend Maureen thinks Hillary is about two years old, developmentally. Two is not a charming age. Two still has pieces missing. People are drawn to her, she says, but they're uncomfortable with her because they sense that there's literally something missing. Bill fills in the pieces. That's what keeps them together. That's why, whatever I write, Maureen is certain that people won't like it. There will be something missing.
My friend Neil thinks she is cold at the core. A phony. But...