Back in 1981, an eerie set of chords and lyrics filled our radios. Phil Collins, in his first solo release, beguiled us with words that gave birth to all manner of urban myths and a drum interlude that is forever iconic. The reality was that he had written the song almost spontaneously, words and emotions simply bubbling up from the depths of his divorce.
And we all embraced it. Music is like that. It touches, inspires, reminds, and often provides catharsis. It also lends itself to all manner of events that come along.
In The Air Tonight has been looping through my inner tape deck since last night when I watched the campaign rally from Philadelphia.
In the run up to Josh Shapiro taking the stage to hype the crowd, I had watched video of the blocks long lines wrapping around buildings as Harris-Walz constituents waited to enter the arena. There were smiles, there was order, there was palpable excitement. What there wasn't? Insanely huge flags with Harris depicted as some Rambo-Gladiator. There were no Fuck Your Feelings tshirts. There was even a Nazi famine.
And that's when those familiar drumbeats of Phil's began playing in my head.
I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh, LordAnd I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh LordCan you feel it coming in the air tonight?Oh Lord, oh Lord
For longer than any of us care to remember, there has been this pall hanging over the country. A low hanging, stifling orange cloud of political pollution in the form of Donald Trump and his minions. But in the past two weeks (has it really only been two weeks?!?) that cloud has been slowly lifting. Along with the corners of our mouths. Last night saw the sun finally break through and winds of exuberance blew the rest of that pollution away.
Well, if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a handI've seen your face before, my friendBut I don't know if you know who I amWell, I was there and I saw what you didI saw it with my own two eyesSo you can wipe off that grin, I know where you've beenIt's all been a pack of lies
I have long said of Trump that he would not cross the street to pee on you if you were on fire. Fire-drowning, same thing. MAGAts are a means to an end for him. Gullible, easy to rile up and quick to anger, and afraid of whatever they are told to fear, if I can give Trump credit for anything it would be his ability to work his crowd. Work meaning constantly grift. He was also able to incite them to an insurrection. And yes, MAGAts, that is exactly what it was. It was not an FBI psyops. We saw what you did. We saw it with our own millions of eyes. The videos will live forever. And watching as one by one you participants have been identified, arrested, and sentenced? Well, you can wipe off that grin, we know where you've been, and what Trump has been feeding you for years has all been a pack of lies.
And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh LordWell, I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh LordI can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh LordAnd I've been waiting for this moment for all my lifeOh Lord, oh Lord
Contrast all of that deception, artificially induced rage, and never ending hatred of so many groups of people with last night's event. A rainbow of faces. A coalition of hearts and minds and religions and no religions and men and women and every place on the spectrum of humanity and gender/sexuality. All together in an arena packed to the rafters (estimates are now at 14,000), feeling good. Feeling hope. Finally.
Well, I remember, I remember, don't worryHow could I ever forget?It's the first timeThe last time we ever metBut I know the reason why you keep your silence upNo, you don't fool meWell, the hurt doesn't show, but the pain still growsIt's no stranger to you and me
None of us will ever forget the first time we saw him slither down his escalator and ignite a firestorm of bigotry and racism. How could we ever forget? While it was not the first exposure to Trump for many of us, it was for wide swath of this nation, this world. Decent people were repulsed. Repulsive people were emboldened. And when his rhetoric began literally taking life in the form of murders on his behalf? He kept his silence up, never condemning those who responded to his constant stochastic terrorism.
That hurt still grows. On this side of the aisle we fear for so many in our ranks. It doesn't matter if we personally know someone who is transgender or non-binary or Hispanic or Jewish or Muslim or <insert any of the targets of his rhetoric>. We care. Deeply. Of course I wake up each day fearful for transgender people. My son is transgender. And he is nothing like MAGAts would have you believe. He is simply a human being navigating his life quietly, hoping to get from sunup to sundown without altercation or incident. No monster, not a pedophile, not a freak. And our side knows that. We know he isn't asking for anything beyond what we cis people enjoy - equal rights, workplace protections, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness.
Watching the campaign rally last night? I admit I loved knowing the pain growing inside the busted ego of a spray painted narcissist as he took in what he cannot comprehend. A Black-Asian woman backed by a white man who looks like what Trump sees when he blathers from his podiums about sharks and batteries and Hannibal Lector, but could not be further from that. Tim Walz is no MAGAt. He is what Kamala Harris is - an existential threat to his lizard brain, his very id. Two people who do not fear him, who see him for the pathetic, weak, blindingly stupid candidate he is, and who are not afraid to speak truth to his "power".
And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh LordWell, I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh LordI can feel it in the air tonightOh Lord, oh Lord
What filled that arena last night has become almost alien to so many of us that we are still feeling the best hangover ever this morning. JOY. Profound, hopeful, uplifting, and life changing.
All the things that have the MAGAverse spinning in circles and throwing all manner of their poo at the walls. Or the Walz. Because they are afraid.
Tim Walz is the perfect choice from an embarrassment of riches that were laid out before Kamala Harris. Josh? Pete? Mark? Strong candidates all. And they will continue to have their place championing this ticket and on into the future of the administration. But Walz? He ticks so many boxes that MAGAts are confounded as to how to attack.
He was a school teacher. A football coach. An LGBT group sponsor in his school. A 24 year National Guard veteran. (And stop now with the military questioning. Every time he has run for office, the swift boating has been attempted. He did not desert his fellow soldiers. He left the Guard when he decided to run for office. The swift boating has been attempted for years based on one ass knotted account.) Happily married. Two kids. A dog and a cat. Owns guns and understand the common sense protections that should govern them. Governor of a state ranked #4 best state to live in. A Governor who has reduced childhood hunger, protected abortion and voting rights, legalized marijuana, and boosted clean energy. Contrast him with Trump's VP candidate who would have a 10 year old carry her rapist's child, who thinks people without children are "deranged" and "psychotic", scoffs at protecting the environment, and advocates for women staying in abusive marriages.
Last night, Walz highlighted all of those contrasts between him and the eyeliner wearing shape shifter, Vance. And yes, he even went there. He threw a couch joke.
"I can't wait to debate the guy... that is, if he's willing to get off the couch and show up."
And for the MAGAverse that was a throw pillow too far.
For those who have been living under their ottomans for weeks and don't understand, all those couch memes making the rounds allude to a joke made about Vance, a rubber glove, and his affinity for having American Pied his Grammy's sofa cushions. A joke that took on a life of its own. A joke that is sticking.
Watching the endless stream of MAGAts crying into their own throw pillows about the joke last night has been, quite frankly, delicious. So used to being able to disparage, abuse, and slander their Dem opponents with little to no push back, they are completely shook by having that rubber glove slapped across their hypocritical faces.
Advice to the MAGA crowd about the couch joke? Cry harder. After enduring years of your favorite felon's petulant name calling, blatant lies and gaslighting, and your crowd's go-to rebuttal to anyone trying to reason with you, that of PEDO, if a couch joke is all you've got to whine about? Fuck your feelings.
Last night marked a sea change in this campaign season. From Josh Shapiro's firey and upbeat opening that included GSD - Getting shit done, to Harris taking direct aim at Trump and his felonious ways, to Walz suffering no fools and taking no bullshit - all three doing so with smiles that lit up the Liacouras Center at Temple University - the night was a triumph of optimism, determination to meet/beat the opponents at their own game, and fierce, defiant joy.
We are strong. We are resolute. We are tired of his/their endless bullshit. We understand the assignment. We know exactly what is on the line and what the dangers are. And we are going to prevail. So to repeat, You can wipe off that grin, we know where you've been, it's all been a pack of lies.
Sing it Phil...
Well, I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh LordI can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh LordWell, I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh LordI can feel it in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh LordWell, I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord, oh LordI can feel it in the air tonight, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord, oh LordWell, I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh Lord, oh LordOh Lord, oh Lord
Can't you feel it in the air tonight? I can. #HarrisWalz2024
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