The powerful feeling of being part of history

I live in the Bluest city on the planet. I didn’t have to vote. I didn’t need to vote. I wanted to vote because this election is historical. Kids will read about it in history books (or whatever they have then) generations from now. I’m glad I am able to be here, at the beginning. Well, actually, I’m lucky enough to have been there in some capacity earlier, since I voted for him for the state legislature and Senate, but the presidential race is something that all Americans (of voting age and eligible, of course) can participate in.

I actually got tears in my eyes when I touched the screen and the X appeared by Obama/Biden. Because this election is historic, it was a powerful feeling just being part of it, even if my vote itself didn’t matter. Obama supporters on the east coast will be voting to put him in office. I hope Obama supporters on the west coast will vote even if it looks like a landslide win before their polls close, just so they can be part of history too.

I’ve been thinking the same thing lately. How lucky I am to be alive during such an historical time. It’s the only American election in which I wish I was able to vote.