In Preparation for the Debate Tonight

I had to run a lot of errands today outside the office. It was really an escape from the frustration of errors in communication, little annoyances, constant interruptions. But every time I went out--to the bank, to the post office, twice to Staples--I got a chance to speak with strangers.

One woman was wondering around Staples, on the second visit, because she had lost her originals when she had come to the store to make copies. She began to tell me her tale while we were both waiting on line. I reached over and touched her arm.

"We are all under so much stress, it's no wonder, you misplaced your papers."

A flood of emotion came out of her. She is in her seventies. She is still married. Their entire savings has been eroded these last weeks: 40% drop in the equity markets in a single year. She looked at me with such fear that I left my hand on her arm a little longer.

In the post office, the clerk was telling me that everyone seems out of alignment, even her usual customers are curt.

On the way home from work, I stopped at a liquor store in a working class neighborhood. The store is known for its wine selection. A young man, I thought he was a kid, but he is 28 years old, was helping me choose a white for our debate party tonight; I am no expert on white wines. He offered me a wine from New Zealand. As he was walking out of the store carrying my case, he noticed the Obama magnet on the car.

"Didn't you see all of the right wing literature my boss keeps on the side when you first walk in? I'm the only Obama supporter in the store and everyone gives me grief."

Finally I stopped at a little Middle Eastern shop where I often get pomegranate juice, cashews, fresh breads, and pistachio nuts. The owner is from Iran. As I was gathering together treats for our party, the owner's friend told me that he doesn't trust Obama, that he doesn't look presidential. "He doesn't have the stature of a President," he said.

Then the man used the "n" word. I was so taken aback. I don't know where he is from, but I suppose he is from someplace in the Middle East.

I took a deep breath and said, "That's just American racism speaking."

As I was checking out, the owner who knows me, appeared concerned about his friend's comment. I responded to his worry. "My daughter is in Prague. How exciting for her, to be discussing the election, American politics, abroad, among young people from all over the world."

Then I looked at the man who had spoken so ill. "I trust our children more than I trust us."