In a last-minute decision while killing time in the duty-free shop in the international wing of the Sao Paulo airport, I bought a box of Fine Cuban Cigars. I was thinking to myself that I'd probably avoid getting randomly searched by customs in Mexico City or back in the good ol' Communist-hating US of A - Chicago. Why not?

I was wrong, of course. I successfully avoided dealing with the Mexican Federales, whom probably didn't care about a box of Fine Cuban Cigars anyhow. But, thanks to our dedicated force of airport border Homeland Security officers, I was randomly selected to be searched by hand.

"Where are you coming from?"
"Brazil."
"Why Brazil?"
"Well, I certainly don't have a sister living there illegally."
"Do you have any alcohol, tobacco, or food with you?"
"No. Of course not, sir. I'm a good American citizen just like yourself, proud of the work you are doing." And salute.

I wasn't taken completely by surprise. I had taken precautions. The box of Fine Cuban Cigars were stashed at the bottom of my carry-on backpack along with my laptop and the book I was reading - Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs. But I had brought several books; I put them all in the backpack on top of the box of Fine Cuban Cigars, which was still wrapped in the duty-free package. There was also the ripped-up torn copy of The Economist magazine: several pages had been torn off, which I used to wrap up the package in a very hap-hazard and messy method. Then the package of complimentary sleep-junk AeroMexico gave out on the plane. Then some packaging from a box of cookies that Jen was going to throw out. My studio headphones. Another pair of headphones. The ipod cable. The laptop power supply, carefully tangling the cable around the growing mass. Ah, an uneaten biscuit wrapped in a package. A couple of pens, some paper, a notepad, receipts, lint...

The officer opened my backpack first. Which was good - there were two large suitcases with me that he had yet to search. He found the manual for the Nikon D70 SLR camera I had with me, and we started talking about cameras. He's an amateur photographer - just purchased the D90, he said. Talked about speed of the camera, other models, pictures of Brazil, etc etc.

He was still grilling me: see if I'd slip and say I hadn't been to Rio when I previously said I was. But I was doing mine: keep him distracted from the back just long enough for him to give up on the giant mass of crap inside...

Success!

He had made it down to the wrapped Box of Fine Cuban Cigars, but threw it back in and zipped up the backpack, moving on to my two suitcases. One of which was about to provide him with the wonderful scent of pure mildew from the wet swimming clothes. The exit's through there - welcome back to America, you communist-loving terrorist-supporting bastard. Not that it makes a whole lot of sense: Cuba's already got my money, whether I smoke the damn things or not.

My dad said it well: "One man's terrorism is another man's fine smoke."

I would not doubt that this will go down in history not just as the first African American  but as the best political campaign period.

More Headlines from RCP in the late hour:
Athletes of Color Paved Way for Obama - Mike Bianchi, Orlando Sentinel
And if you root wildly for a man of color to win a major doesn't it make it much easier to vote for a man of color to become the president?A
He's here because he got game.

Is this a reeling country? Has our conservativism breached the mouth? erupted into the open? Split open the neck-pipe?

The real loss of the night are the ballot measures, like those on prop. 8 in CA. While taking part in the victory celebration, our grasp on the Bill of Rights has slipped through unnoticed. So much rephrasing of the MLK speech on TVs while we ignore any coverage of state constitutional amendments. The new civil rights movement falls deaf on these crowds. Them, they're different. Not like us, whomever we are. The winners. The reconciled.

Now, Obama's speech. Hello, Chicago.

There's so much connection to the struggling times of America. This is such a direct line to the fear of 9/11 and depression of religious protectionism in the following 7 years. Since our ancestors have left us, our connection remains thin and tied to our own beliefs of modernism. A the wounds we suffer recently. Obama's made the best campaign speech. Perhaps we're all paying undevided attention now. Now he's not afraid of the racial connectoin and historic properties, which now can be said ot mean something significant without the bias of an ongoing election. Now he speaks about grand themes and ideals so great on our nation's historical scale. Only a true cynic meets this speech with hatred and bitterness of loss. Believers of a dark faith of God, that nothing will save our historical prejiduce.

Now the crowd fades quickly into hubris. Facing the bleak economic conditions now with the drag of McCain's last-minute attacks as the witness of socialism in America and a great Doom. But it falls on a lot of dear ears tonight. They'll pull the attacks from our bliss, make us recant, call us out on some fake depravity of our War or the Economy. But that's the war; that's the battle we've won.

We celebrate a victory.

Finally something right has come to pass on the Long American Road. Smiles, happiness, a great relief in the face of a nation . maybe that's a bit harsh. And we feel that we're only on the tip of the tide.

There is fewer good feelings that a hard-won victory against your enemy. And our enemy was never the GOP golem McCain, but the spector of Bush remained strong in every suffring neighborhood. This was the enemy that was defeated swiftly.

Since McCain has been talking, he's dropped to a suffering 333 Ev's as CO and NM go down blue and the expected CA, OR, and WA are called blue. And since there was no real lead to this whole we can imagine pretty much any meaning or philosophy. An event that seemed meaningless and apathetic and naive when I was a war or two younger now has turned to a focal point of our existence. A seminal moment of cultural significance since the 60's.