Triage

Since all is said and done (the fat lady sang real loud), I'm engaging in gratuitous political endorsement and celebration. Not that I'm shy about voicing my opinion.

But the election's over and the path forward is a little clearer. But only by a bit. We know who will move into 1600 Pennsylvania Ave on January 20. What happens afterwords is anybody's guess.

I do not envy the President-elect, although I respect him thoroughly. He's inheriting a mess that's not going to get better any time soon. From what I've been reading from people who know more about economics than me, we're in a triage stage right now: save the ones you can, leave the iffy for later and let the hopeless cases die. Give them morphine and let them go.

I know that sounds ruthless, but that's how it has been playing out.

Still, I have more hope than I did last week. And not because I believe that a President can change a whole lot by executive order. That and the veto are about the only powers one has, other than appointing Secretaries.

I'm more hopeful because of the message of the President-elect. Throughout the campaign, he's come back time and time again to the message of hope and possibility, invoking the idea that we can achieve all things. That we can become and be what we want. That all things are possible.

That's the most important quality of any President: the ability to inspire hope in times of great peril. The times we're living in.

Hope inspires faith, and faith calms all things.

These days, hope is a priceless commodity. An intangible asset that can be valued only by how people respond.

Perhaps I'm naive, but I don't think so.

In this election hope trumped all else.