While thousands of people congregated at the official Democratic and Republican election night parties, many flocked to bars and restaurants for smaller events. I caught the reaction at Redwood Bar and Grill in downtown Los Angeles, where the satirical newspaper The Onion sponsored an election-night party of its own.
As soon as I entered the bar, a woman handed me a campaign button that read, “Vote Dewar’s and Ginger.” The drink was free from 8 to 10 o’clock. I quickly figured out the button’s reference: a poster on the wall was split down the middle, a red side with Dewar’s on the Rocks and a blue side with Dewar’s and Ginger.
The dimly lit, pirate-themed bar was an appropriate venue for a tongue-in-cheek newspaper to sponsor a party. Plenty of revelers were having a good time downing the Dewar’s, having come for the free booze and two stand-up comedy acts slated to follow the election coverage. But when the media proclaimed Barack Obama had secured victory, the cheers that rocked the belly of this ship-like bar confirmed the majority here supported the Democratic winner.
“This has been a great fucking event we’ve been leading up to,” said Anthony Sanchez, who runs several paint stores in Anaheim and Tustin, Calif. “And this is really what we’ve been looking forward to the whole time. I mean, McCain got turned down, big-time.”
“The polls definitely showed that Obama was winning,” said Sanchez’s cousin, Rodrigo Lois, who is currently a student at the University of California in Irvine. “No one wanted to be so hopeful as to say it was for sure. Now that it’s happened, it feels amazing. It’s so positive! Hopefully he can follow through with all the things he’s been saying.”
Sanchez said their excitement was tempered with some criticism now that Obama’s victory was secured—namely, that Obama is no Dennis Kucinich.
“It has nothing to do with race or anything like that,” he added quickly.
“He’s a lot more centrist than I would like him to be,” Lois explained. “Hopefully that’s just a move to get elected and he can actually push through ideas that make sense for the country. We’ll see. We’ve got time. Things are better now, I think.”
The mood was both positive and jocular as John McCain took the stage to offer his concession speech. Some people were popping off jokes even as others devoured every word, their faces rapt and glowing from the television screens.
During a short lull in the action, I noticed one fellow looking eager to chat, so I waded over to him through the sea of humid bodies.
“I’m Ben and I love Obama, and I just moved to this fabulous country, and I made a pledge that I would leave the U.S. if McCain should become president, so I’m glad I can stay!” he said.
When I asked him to elaborate on why he favored Obama, he got as far as saying that Obama was better for the economy and for international relations before pausing and saying, “Sorry, I can’t think clearly. I’m drunk from Dewar’s!”
But as much as the event was about celebration and inebriation, some people were caught up in the moment, with the full import of this history-making election for them clearly as potent as any brew. One young woman was wiping away tears throughout almost the entirety of Obama’s speech.
“I just feel really proud of us for the first time in a long time, but it’s a good feeling. Tears of joy, I guess, in a Kennedy kind of way,” said Sarah Sanders after Obama had left the stage. “I kept waiting for our generation to do something good, and waiting, and waiting. I mean it’s a start. It’s at least empowering.”
Sanders’ friend, Erin Cappiccie, a registered Democrat, seemed less enthusiastic about the election outcome and even said she had voted for McCain.
“This whole time I was watching the debates, and reading the news. I got it. I’m a Democrat. I share the same ideals, but I just wasn’t buying it, from either party, really. I just didn’t buy it. I don’t know if I didn’t invest enough time in it, or pay enough attention, but honestly I wasn’t going to vote today because it didn’t really matter to me who won, because I was so on the fence.”
It took seeing the night’s events unfold, from Obama’s victory to McCain’s sportsmanlike speech to Obama’s rousing one, for her to get excited about what had happened, Cappiccie said.
“I’m going to look back on this in four years, and be like, ‘Oh, God, I love Obama,’” she said.
Sanders turned to her friend. “Everything you just said flies in the face of what I said.”
Cappiccie defended herself. “We did do something good, but I don’t know, I wasn’t really struck by anybody this whole election. I didn’t really believe in either of them.”
“Well, there, we agree to disagree,” Sanders said.
“I wasn’t excited about either party until now,” Cappiccie repeated.
“Well, that’s where you are wrong,” Sanders said, but explained that the two of them were friends.
“That’s why she can talk to me like this,” Cappiccie added.
Regardless of who won or who sponsored the party or how much anyone had to drink, what seemed to separate this event from, say, watching the final outcome from the comfort of your couch, was the ability to connect to others and share in the sheer magnitude of the night. It was like New Year’s Eve, or as Cappiccie and Sanders pointed out, like a sporting event. People were blissfully happy to share their reactions.
“You want to be part of something. That’s why people watch sports,” Cappiccie said.
“Yeah, but it’s like the Superbowl instead of pre-season games. The last election was like a pre-season game,” Sanders said. “People actually give a shit. I like when people give a shit. It’s so much more fun.”
