If ever there was a period in modern American history that deserved to be described in Dickensian terms, it was November 2008. If you voted for Barack Obama (or just appreciated the historical significance of our country electing a black president) it was the best of times, the age of wisdom, the epoch of belief, the season of light, and the spring of hope. But if you paid any attention to the financial news pages (or simply owned a house that was now worth a year’s pay less than what you paid for it) it also seemed like the worst of times, the age of foolishness, the epoch of incredulity, the season of darkness, and the winter of despair.

I’ve always been a bookworm and so around the age of 11 or 12 I asked all my male and female friends whether they would vote for a black man or a white woman for president.  Everyone, male and female alike would always say black man.  I was surprised that the ladies didn’t stick up for one of their own.  I was so surprised, that I would ask my friends this question every couple of years.  We moved a little and I also changed who I hung out with so I wasn’t always asking the same people.  Yet, even though high school and college a majority would say they would rather go for a black man.

Welcome to 2008!