Refering to the world economy, it is often said that "When the U.S. catches a cold, the rest of the world gets pneumonia."  Recent events "bear" out the validity of that axiom.  With respect to tomorrow's U.S. presidential election, many in Europe and elsewhere overseas might be thinking:  "If the Americans succumb to a Mac Attack, they'll be dining alone for a long time."

It is no overstatement to say that tomorrow's election is being followed outside the U.S. with as much interest -- and considerably greater anxiety -- as in the U.S., itself.  With a combination of Bush fatigue, and everything from dismay to outright disdain for American foreign, economic and environmental policies driving a wedge between the U.S. and its traditional allies, Europeans, in particular, view the U.S. election as critical to their future security and prosperity.  More precisely, Europeans see an Obama win as signaling the enhanced prospect of creative and diversified U.S. engagement absent for at least eight years, if not longer.  (Arguably, the last two years of the Clinton administration saw little-to-no real progress on the multiple fronts of security, trade and the environment, bringing the era of U.S. disengagement in international affairs to ten years.)

These conclusions were underscored by a European member to an E.U. delegation in the U.S. to observe tomorrow's election first-hand.   Standing in the throng waiting to hear Barack Obama speak in Cleveland last night, the casual chit-chat about rock music and "The Boss" (rocker Bruce Springsteen, there to warm-up the crowd for Obama) gave way to discussion about how Europe views the election.  The man -- an East European businessman in his 40s -- was blunt and unequivocal in his assessment: "If Obama does not win, Europe will walk away from America."

Coming from an American, those words might suggest a partisan bitterness from someone sick at the prospect of yet another bitter disappointment.  Uttered without emotion, and with a cold gaze seemingly focused on an unseen horizon by a 40-something businessman from behind what used to be the Iron Curtain, I shuddered.

The words, alone, were chilling.  But, the look, the tone, and the almost palpable sadness with which they were spoken -- coupled with their source -- cast a pall over the otherwise jubilant mood that moments before had wrapped itself around me as I stood in the crowd.  The warm blanked fell away from me.  Almost on cue, it started raining.