There seems to be a disease that cropped up yesterday: electionitis. The symptoms mimic those of a gastrointestinal bug, both "north" and "south." Log on to most political blogs and you will read post after post describing politics addicts' digestive symptoms in dreadful detail. One campaign worker who, when answering a reporter's query as to how he was feeling replied "cautiously optimistic," was countered by his colleague declaring "cautiously nauseous." It's hit my family for certain. All of us are on liquid diets, unable to tear ourselves away from the CNN or MSNBC screen, like morbidly fascinated gapers passing a massive highway pileup. We realize we shouldn't look but we do anyway. (I should mention my father-in-law got a real GI bug and is getting IV rehydration in the hospital as we speak--except for a brief foray into the voting booth last weekend, he resolved to spend his TV viewing time on prime-time dramas, old sitcoms, and DVDs of "The Tudors." Unfortunately, his hospital roomie has had FOX News on all evening; hope this does not exacerbate Dad's dyspepsia). It's 2 a.m., I've had 3 hrs. of sleep and about 150 calories all day, and still I type, surf back to the NY Times Op-Eds and Politics articles, and have "Hardball" on in the background after watching the SNL Monday Night Pre-Election Bash. (Yes, sadly, I am so glued to the tube that I have the L.A. network feeds on satellite). I wince at every Jeremiah Wright smear ad and notice that coverage of McCain/Palin rallies and strategies outweighs Obama/Biden by at least 3:2 (with even MSNBC trying in the last few days to load up on GOP pundits: scrappy-underdog stories get the most press attention. Payback, it seems, for Obama's remarkable journey. Alas, part of the rally-coverage disparity is doubtless due to the heart-wrenching death early yesterday of Obama's grandmother Madeleine Dunham, who quietly lost a long battle with cancer. The Republican ticket has been hitting every battleground state today and a few more tomorrow; Obama gave a poignant speech in Charlotte, saluting his "tutu" for leaving this world the better for her having lived in it and shaped his and his sister's lives and ambitions. I only hope that she got her wings as soon as she arrived in Heaven, and is pulling strings as best she can. Tonight he is sleeping in his own home, perhaps for the last time with "Senator" his sole official title. Kinahurrah, of course. I voted last week. If you haven't, please do so today. No matter how long you may have to wait in line, think of Barack traversing the country today despite his grief. Think of his mother awakening him at 4 am to supervise his homework. Think of his "tutu" raising him despite having to go to work every day as a bank vice-president. Think of how your vote may well change the country and the world, restoring openness, mutual respect, cooperation and accountability to government at home and abroad. Think of restoring our civil liberties, and assuring the next generation of kids that whatever their circumstances of birth they too can grow up to become President. That ought to make you think a little less about your feet, knees and back--or at least it should. Tomorrow night at this time I should be heading home from a night in Grant Park. May it have been a celebration.