Being a Georgia Democrat in Atlanta used to come with the reassurance of being among friendlies — living inside the perimeter meant being somewhat insulated from the rural red-staters who controlled the state’s state of affairs. I-285 was a security blanket.

Now, the bright blue dot seems almost invisible, drowned out by the blinding redness around us that has been cranked up to 11 on the color knob. The polls closed 41 and a half hours ago, with bad news following closely thereafter; I ate a big greasy breakfast 26 hours ago; and I have spent the last 28 hours re-hydrating. However, I still feel like a walking hangover. At least today, unlike last night, I know what day it is and what I’m supposed to do with my time, but I still feel disconnected from reality, like I’m on some kind of political Prozac.

Maybe it’s the inherent conflict between the good news and the bad news. On Tuesday night, the revelers at the YDG suite covered the whole spectrum of mood, from those who were able to focus on the national races and celebrate the capture of Congress, to those who wanted the happy people to shut the hell up and point us toward the beer because we had just gotten our teeth kicked in from the State House to the statewide offices. Naturally, I fell into the latter camp, because being sullen comes more easily to me, and because 12 solid hours of election day campaigning only propelled us face first into a brick wall. When one of the annoying happy ones tried to cheer me up with national results, I said that as good as that news was in theory, to the locally defeated it felt more like your buddies telling you they’re taking you to Vegas and getting a hotel room full of strippers to get your mind off the girl that just dumped your ass. Oh, goody, strippers, woo-hoo; can they dance to The Smiths?

Jan Hackney is a good person and a dedicated citizen who has volunteered tirelessly for her community for years and should have been given the chance to continue to serve Sandy Springs from the state legislature. Her past activism and forward-looking agenda earned her the prized endorsements of the Georgia Association of Educators and the Sierra Club. Her incumbent opponent is a tired old political hack who has a clear record of voting against the interests of education and environmental quality, and when reality was working against him the GA GOP and the incumbent’s own bitchy wife turned on the mud-slinging machine while simultaneously and baselessly accusing Jan of the very same smear. The fact that he couldn’t just run on his own record of service was evidenced by the fact that while canvassing all summer we talked to a surprising number of straight-ticket Republicans who candidly told us that they’re “not voting for Harry again, no way.” Even some Republicans I talked to myself who weren’t predisposed to dislike their current representative heard me out and sounded like they were seriously inclined to give this PTA mom from around the corner a chance to serve them better than the schmuck who was nowhere to be seen the entire campaign season. But in the end, more than half of Sandy Springs stayed home while the fancier voters in the Roswell district turned out in better numbers and voted for the status quo because they’re basically not paying attention.

Jim Martin is also an outstanding person and dedicated public servant, and his defeat was similarly stunning. What time I had for campaigning I had committed to House District 48, so I had to settle for sending Jim money and proudly sporting his yard sign on my bike for several weeks as I rolled around the city on my daily errands. Jim is a guy you cannot meet and not like, not become enthralled with, not want to support, probably because it’s so obvious that he only wanted to make Georgians’ lives better. Instead, the state senate will be led by a right-wing Lt. Governor who made the Sierra Club’s “Dirty Dozen” and is basically motivated by the desire to run this state for corporate interests, and who even Republicans in the local blogosphere recognize as a liar after a nasty primary race.

I am depressed to the core and feel like I’m suffering some kind of minor existential crisis. There is the pain of losing a fight you were actually in. There is the pain of knowing that a substantial portion of the American electorate would rather stay home than deal with a little rain to vote. There is the pain of knowing that those who bother to vote can believe in such unbelievable assholes, and that nothing you did could stop it. And, for the icing on the cake, there is simply the physical pain that apparently comes from simple campaign activities; who would have known that walking backwards and standing and waving that much could lead to muscle cramps like I haven’t had since my only half-marathon?

Yeah, this isn’t a hangover from beer. This is all emotional. But at least this time we don’t have to think about moving as far as Canada; no, Virginia will do just fine.



Read more filed under Politics