Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Each job has its unique “Oh, shit!” moments, and as I was browsing the news today it occurred to me that nobody is exempt from this phenomenon. For Obama and the whole preacher imbroglio, two Wrights apparently do make a left, as the good reverend’s second round of coverage appears to have all but blunted that compelling speech on race from a few weeks ago. When you’re a presidential candidate, the moment comes, I believe, when the personal brand you’re building is suddenly thwarted by reality–and the present, along with the darker corners of your history, connects firmly with your chin.

For another politician, the moment might be forgetting, say, whether the hooker was paid with non-sequential twenties or went straight on the Starwood. Or perhaps you’re working the register and realize, minutes later, you gave way too much change. Maybe you screw up your lines. Miss your mark. Walk into a surprise quiz that seems to be surprising only to you. Cobble together an analysis based firmly on the wrong data, only to realize this during the presentation. That last one? Been there. And I’ve got to tell you, as far as explaining the bum numbers go, “’Cos the leprechaun told me” only works so many times.

It’s been a while since my last OS moment, so I’m not sure why this train of thought pulled into the brainstation today, or why it felt so comforting. I guess it’s this idea of assured fallibility. It’s only a matter of time, you know? Of course, by stating all this, I’ve no doubt invited a string of such moments onto my person, in which case we’ll need to employ the plural form: “Oh, shits.”