Election day is a microcosm of the whole race, and our own individual decisions can reflect what we know and what we value.
I love helping out on campaigns. I'm not talking about collecting the big checks or taking out the full-page ads from behind a comfy desk. I mean going out and getting voters to turn out, one by one. Picking up and dropping off volunteers, especially the union stalwarts who just show up -- no matter what. Knocking on doors and reminding people. And even dealing with the hard-working kings for a day, the election day field organizers (having been one myself on occasion). Senior Hill staffers and college students all popping in to do whatever it takes, with rank and privilege irrelevant. Well, ALMOST irrelevant.
Back in 1988, I spent several weeks on my first New Hampshire Primary campaign. Very long days, late-night beers, and frigid nights sleeping on a succession of floors and sofas in the homes of local supporters. Waking up every day long before dawn, feeling soooo cold. Brrrrr! Fun, and fulfilling, right down to pouring wiper fluid across the windshield just to get some visibility. Going door-to-door in waist-high snow, and driving around on streets with a permanent layer of unmelting, compacted snow. Real enthusiasm, and seemingly endless energy. But we get older and -- just possibly -- wiser.
I love helping out on campaigns. I'm not talking about collecting the big checks or taking out the full-page ads from behind a comfy desk. I mean going out and getting voters to turn out, one by one. Picking up and dropping off volunteers, especially the union stalwarts who just show up -- no matter what. Knocking on doors and reminding people. And even dealing with the hard-working kings for a day, the election day field organizers (having been one myself on occasion). Senior Hill staffers and college students all popping in to do whatever it takes, with rank and privilege irrelevant. Well, ALMOST irrelevant.
Back in 1988, I spent several weeks on my first New Hampshire Primary campaign. Very long days, late-night beers, and frigid nights sleeping on a succession of floors and sofas in the homes of local supporters. Waking up every day long before dawn, feeling soooo cold. Brrrrr! Fun, and fulfilling, right down to pouring wiper fluid across the windshield just to get some visibility. Going door-to-door in waist-high snow, and driving around on streets with a permanent layer of unmelting, compacted snow. Real enthusiasm, and seemingly endless energy. But we get older and -- just possibly -- wiser.