Today is a good day...

...and tomorrow will be too.

Today I am celebrating the Steelers winning the AFC Championship last night, sending them to the Super Bowl for the third time since I've been old enough to remember (1980 was in my lifetime, but I wasn't even a year old yet). That alone is enough to keep me on Cloud 9 for the next two weeks until the Big Game, and if we win, I probably won't come down again until halfway through next season.

I bleed Black & Gold. I grew up near Pittsburgh, watching the games every Sunday afternoon with my dad, who was transformed from the kindest man you'd ever hope to meet into a raving lunatic who jumped six feet in the air when the boys made a good play, or grumbled at the coach who couldn't hear him for his bad calls. There's not much in this world that could make a member of the Steelers Nation happier than a Super Bowl trip.

But this week, as excited as I am, it somehow seems insignificant. Because tonight is the last night that George W. Bush will go to bed as President of the United States. And tomorrow, Barack Obama will have the opportunity to show the world that this America is still a nation that values liberty, equality and justice for all.

It is difficult for me to put into words how I feel at this moment. I chose to vote for Mr. Obama not because of his race or in spite of it. I voted for him without regard to his race, because I felt he was the best candidate and the man we need at this moment. Still, I am awed that our country has finally reached this point. I have believed for some time that we would eventually elect a black president, and I felt it would be in my lifetime. But I really thought I would be much older when it happened.

Sometimes it seems so natural to me that he will be President, perhaps because he is just so, well, presidential. But sometimes I still find myself in a state of disbelief. Not just because we voted for a black man, but because we voted for hope and reason. When Bush was re-elected four years ago, I lost a lot of faith in American citizens. In fact, I told my friends I was going to bury my head in the sand for the next four years, because I just couldn't take it anymore.

In many ways, I did, at least until Mr. Obama came along. He gave me hope again. Not because I see him as a "messiah" figure as some like to mock, but because he speaks with both reason and compassion, and reminds us of what a nation united for good can accomplish.

As the election neared last November, I began considering the prospects of attending the Inauguration. In the end, I decided not to go, but to stay and watch the events from home with those closest to me. And as I watch news stories of elderly black men and women, who lived through segregation and marched with Dr. King, making the trek to D.C., I am glad I opted to stay home. This is their moment. They have earned it. They should not have to compete with me in the crowd to see Mr. Obama as he becomes President Obama.

But I will most certainly be celebrating with them from afar.