When it was called, 75,000 voices screamed as one. Instantly, everyone within earshot of Grant Park knew Obama had won. And the crowd went wild.

The crowd: black, white, east asian, south asian, hispanic, you name it. Old white folks in formal attire, youth in baggy pants and hip hop fashion, young kids with their parents, teenagers in groups, twentysomethings crying and hugging and jumping around. Complete strangers high-fiving and low-fiving and hugging. At least one couple, right in front of the Art Institute’s Lions, locked in one of those End of the War swooning kisses.

The noise: every car horn ever. Motorcyclists revving their engines. Bicyclists weave among the traffic, invulnerable. Music, live and recorded. People screaming, chanting, crying.

Unbelievably positive energy. No one seems on the prowl, no one seems worried about being pickpocketed or having their purse snatched. The crowd ebbs and flows, mostly towards the south end of Grant Park, where Obama will be speaking, but also back outward. If I see one more pair of parents with small children who are ecstatically smiling, I will lose my shit.

gonna head away, though. don’t like crowds, except at sporting events, and I want to be somewhere I can hear the speech.

wish you all were here. but of course, you are.