Electoral Math

I wanted to wait long enough after the Democratic Convention to allow whatever "bounce" the Democrats got to stabilize in the polls. That has happened, and now the consensus of the credible polls is in line with my real-time analysis of the conventions.

The Republican ticket got nothing of value from its convention; the Democrats have gained a considerable lead from theirs, mainly courtesy of the fabulous speech by Bill Clinton, easily the best political speech of this election cycle to date.

When I write posts like this one, even for my very tiny audience, I first want to assure any reader that my analysis is free from bias or wishful thinking. When I switch into my straight journalist mode, my own feelings have no place and so remain at the side.

Instead I rely on my math skills. I go through all of the polls, crunch the numbers, and give you my best mathematical guess as to how this thing is developing.

So here it is. Obama has a commanding lead in the Electoral College, as of today. The most credible polls agree it is 237-191 over Romney, with 110 in play. But when you dig into those 110 more closely, Obama is ahead in every one of those states.

He need only win, say, two of them, to reach the magic number of 270 needed to win the election.

But if he wins them all, the final tally will be 337-191, which would qualify as a slaughter.

I doubt that will happen. We have a weak economy, which traditionally hurts incumbent Presidents. It seems logical that at least some of the swing states will swing to Romney. So I predict a closer finish that today's polls suggest.

A caution I must add to this analysis is that any major developments could change the electoral math. It's still early.

But in this race between two centrists, who differ far less from each other on ideology or policy than the extremes of those in their bases, Obama clearly has the advantage for now.

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Best Moments in a Long Life

As I sat in the bleachers today at Balboa High School, cheering for my 18-year-old son and his team, the wind and the fog blew in to the point where despite my jacket I started shivering.

Probably it's because I have gotten quite skinny this year, through a combination of reducing the amount of food I eat and walking a half mile or so most days. Suddenly I find I can fit into shirts that were too small last year, and jeans I could have worn in college, four decades ago.

But despite the chill, I felt warm watching him play. Although his team lost again, this time to an opponent they should have beaten, he got to do something I've never seen before.

Late in the game, his coach moved him to the center of the field, where he played center midfielder. The entire tone of the game changed, with this tall, fast, finesse player suddenly running the Balboa offense.

Despite his total unfamiliarity at this position, he did well, very well. He set up drive after drive, took four shots on goal, set up a bunch of others with passes, and led an exciting comeback drive that fell just short.

I hope his coach keeps him there, so we can see what happens. Most of all, he clearly was enjoying himself.

Before the game began, as a senior and co-captain this year, he went to the center of the field to meet with the refs and the captains of the other team. He had a big, beautiful smile on his face.

He was having fun. I had fun watching him have fun. I forgot all of my worries and fears and just enjoyed watching one of my kids play a game.

Sure they lost and are now 0-2, with no goals yet against 8 allowed in two games. But he's a natural leader, in my view, and I expect him to lead this team, which is very immature and disorganized, into a winning unit in the weeks to come.

I know he can do it because I know him and I believe in him.

Stay tuned. This story will only be told here.

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As the Seasons Turn

It may be a cliche but one minute your kid is a freshman, the youngest one on the field, playing against guys four years older, much more physically developed and stronger. Blink and he's a senior, the tallest kid on the field, co-captain of his team, yelling instructions to his younger teammates.

That's how fast high school (or any era) in life passes. Inevitably, it seems, before you're ready for it.

It's bittersweet seeing your kids grow up. Part of you wanted them to remain small and cuddly; now they grow big and strong and have to begin distancing themselves from you for their own welfare.

It's their lives, not yours, and they need to assume control. What's hard for a parent, even with the best of intentions, is to let go, and let them make the mistakes that will help them grow.

Your main work occurred years ago. Now you can have some influence, but they're running their own show.

My son's team doesn't look to be as strong this year as in the past three seasons, which is a shame, now it's his last in high school. They were clobbered by Mission High yesterday, 6-0.

What I took away from the experience was another bad sunburn, despite trying to use sunscreen, and a sad feeling that I guess his chances for a championship are unlikely to have ever gotten closer than that November day two years ago when his team lost the title game to Lowell H.S.

This year's squad is mainly younger guys; just three other seniors made the team. They are in rebuilding mode, it appears.

Sports as metaphor works equally well whether you win or lose, are happy or sad. It's always a struggle -- to get on top or to rise up from the bottom.

At least he didn't get injured in yesterday's fast-paced game, although he did sustain a hard hit in the second half that when he was younger and smaller might have led to an ankle sprain.

Driving home afterwards, he said the loss didn't surprise him; he could tell from practices the past few weeks that this team is disorganized and immature.

His main job this year will to be one of the leaders and set an example for the younger kids. Looking him out on that pitch, the only white kid on either team filled up with Latino boys, I was proud of him once again -- for sticking through this whole high school experience in a place where he is a minority.

And in soccer, a minority of one.

I don't think he sees it that way -- he sees the other guys as individuals, not through the lens of race. Many of them are his friends. Their affection for one another is visible from the stands -- as they shake hands and encourage one another before the game, and keep trying to keep up the competition during it.

As a sport, there is no race, ethnicity, color of skin -- none of that. There are strikers, mid-fielders, backs, and keepers.

Players one and all. And that's how it should be.

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Weekend Album

I love the times my younger kids get to hang out with their nephews and niece. Yesterday, after her soccer game, my daughter got to be auntie to her three little nephews from Sacramento for a couple hours.

Lately, a number of people I've only recently met have asked to get together so I can tell them about my life. I'm flattered, naturally, although I also know this only happens once you've grown old -- a sobering thought.

In fact my 18-year-old said the other day, "Don't take this the wrong way, Dad, but could we sit down for a video interview so you can tell me about your life?" I didn't take it the wrong way -- the younger kids know very little of my childhood or my long career as a journalist, or even as a husband living with his family -- twice, once for 20 years, once for ten.

The man they know lives alone, is aging, has lots of financial challenges, and is a chronic worrier. They've seen little of his success up close -- that's all well back in my history now.

But they do know one thing quite deeply and that is how much love I have for them, and their siblings, and our whole family. To them, I'm sure I am much more a Dad than anything else -- they've seen few of my writings, almost none of my speeches or media appearances; they know nothing of awards I've won, all of which are stashed away in dusty closets at this point.

The past is just that -- passed. What matters now is the present and their future. We started planning out my son's college application process today.

My daughter the aunt. My favorite subject, with my words and my eyes, are these types of moments. For me, the past is a story I'm happy to tell, but the present is the moment I'm determined to live.

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