Obama & the 40 Year Old Man

A little bit about the rally:

I had a fantastic time watching in awe as people of every nationality, religious faith, age and soocio-economic status cheered Mr. Obama on last night. I couldn't get over the fact that a center that's usually packed for entertainers and sports figures was that way for a man who is neither.

Beyond that, it was rather touching to see older generations wipe away tears as an unrealized dream unfolded in front of their eyes. Many will say that Obama's black supporters are voting for him because of their racial commonality. That may be a true statement. But considering that most blacks (particularly older ones) never thought they'd see an even like last night's in their lifetime, you have to be a bit empathetic. And unjudging, too. As many debates as my mom and I have had over race, for one night we were on the same page, tearing up as 19,000 people cheered that man on. It was pretty bonding for me.

The wait to get in the Toyota Center, however, was a different story. While waiting in the e-ticket line, I was engrossed in people watching. My mom was on the phone at times and trying to find a way in with the blue ticket holders at others. I knew we were in for a long wait, but once I heard a male voice purr, "Excuse me," that wait shifted to eternity. When I turned to see who the voice belonged to, I found myself facing a well dressed man. Sharkskin suit. Golden brown skin tone. And looked like he was pushing 40 years.

Let me back up a bit. As an active member of Houston's community, I'm usually around men and women who are about 10+ years older than me. It's always made me feel more mature and poised. This only becomes a problem when I attract men. It's not that I have a fear of men. I have a fear of men who are old enough to be my older brother, or worse ,my dad. There's got to be an age limit, sirs. Besides, I always imagine having the conversation in which I say, 'I can't. I'm Mormon,' and how badly that may end. The Southern gentleman knew none of that, obviously. But I wasn't about to explain it.

Needless to say, I humored him with some charm-talk, took his card and gave him mine. Now he won't stop calling.

I have GOT to learn how to politely say no.