At the entrance to the Ag building Saturday afternoon, I’m stunned to see all the cars. Then I see the sign: Bull Sale, February 9. “Oh,” I think to myself, “so that’s why everyone’s here.” But something’s wrong. I’ve been to bull sales, and no one comes in a sedan. Where are all the muddy pickup trucks and poop-stained stock trailers? So these are people who have come for the Democratic Caucus? I chuckle at the irony: Republicans probably think it’s a “bull” sale all right.
I push into the crowded room to be greeted by Dan McGuire of the raised eyebrows and surprised voice. “Are you really registered as a Democrat?” he asks. “Yup,” I laugh. In order to participate in the primaries, I have had to change from my usual “Independent” to “Democrat.”
I look around and see some big surprises. People are whispering, “Can you believe he’s here? Who knew?”Others are undoubtedly whispering about me. I wonder if that’s what it will be like when I enter heaven. “He’s here?”
After a few problems with the P.A. system, we hush and are asked to approve the temporary chairman. We roar our approval. He then goes to the podium and nominates himself to be the permanent chairman. We roar our approval. I feel like I’m in a third world country where the next thing we’ll do is abolish the Parliament. But this is FUN. This MATTERS!
Next, Obama supporters must move to the left side of the building, Clinton supporters to the right, uncommitted to the back. Like trying to separate the bananas from the peaches once the blender’s been going.
In a few moments, I’m hearing Dan speak. He’s using a little portable P.A. system to throw his full throated support behind Obama. It’s hard to hear, but the passion is there. He has clearly prepared for this, ticking off his points, interrupted by cheers. Apparently this is a procedural mix-up; he’s not supposed to be doing this quite yet. Oh well, it’s Dan, and we love Dan. What’s a little anarchy among friends? And as long as he’s speaking out of turn, why not invite someone else to do so? A representative from Clinton’s side of the room responds with her own prepared speech.
So now we count. I wish for my father-in-law, who can just stare at a vast herd of black cows and tell me how many there are. Instead, we hold our hands high and then put them down when the counters click their clickers and look us in the eye. That look in the eye is the most significant event of the afternoon. “You’ve been counted,” it says. “Your vote counted.” I will never forget that. I’m frantically looking for Tammy, who is late because of the Blue and Gold speech tournament. We need her vote. Please hurry, Tammy!
For some reason we need speeches again. Nominations for someone to represent Sen. Obama? Someone yells a name. Then someone yells my name. “Are they kidding?” I ask a couple next to me. “You’re allowed to decline,” they answer. Then another name. Shouted votes, and suddenly I’m walking to the front of the room completely unrehearsed to tell 500 people why I’m voting for Sen. Obama. “Dead Man Walking” flits through my mind. When I stand in front of the microphone, the chairman asks me to be brief. “You can count on it,” I mutter.
I’d love to take this opportunity to edit the remarks I made. To delete the inappropriate comment about pronouncing “nuclear” correctly. To insert a comment about how Obama chose to go from the top of the socioeconomic class at Harvard to the bottom of the socioeconomic ladder in Chicago. To provide some better sound bites for the media to quote. But that’s not really the point. The real point is that for what it’s worth, I didn’t decline. There were far better spokespersons there, far better prepared. There were women and men whom we respect more, who have done more for our community, who are smarter, more thoughtful, have a better grasp of the issues. I saw many of them in the audience.
But my one voice matters. Your one voice matters. You may think you have nothing to say, you may think you are a very small fish in a very large sea, you may be shocked to discover that anyone cares what you think, you may make mistakes in how you say it. Say it anyway. Given the chance, speak. We’re faced with dozens of consequential issues right now locally, nationally and internationally. We need your voice. Agree or disagree with my position, but speak. Yes, you’re allowed to decline, but I say to you with all my heart: “DON’T.”
Obama wins by three votes. Tammy has come in at the very last second. The counter has looked her in the eye.
Afterward we re-mingle for soup, crackers and dessert. It turns out that Clinton’s supporters like a good bowl of chili as much as Obama’s do. And so we enjoy each other’s company, all mixed back together.
When you “Do the 52,” expect a few surprises. And don’t decline!
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