volunTEER AND LOATHING in the Birthplace of the Republican Party, Part II

7 FEB 2004

On Friday night, Richard* dropped off dozens of Kucinich flyers and pamphlets and bumperstickers, even a lawn sign!

I showed up at the Jackson County Democratic Headquarters around ten when they opened. There's a rule that volunteers can only pester voters outside the place or in a restricted area inside, no closer than twenty feet from the official voting area. I'm not sure if that's supposed to help people feel safe from harassment as they walk out, or to prevent accusations of ballot tampering if one of us came too close. Whatever the reason, it meant that the line of duct tape on the floor provided us about two feet inside the front door, a few feet to the right of the entranceway, and about three chairs along the wall to the left of the entrance. Cozy. If someone was standing between you and the door, you had to practically hug them to slip past without stepping over the line.

To give some idea of how friendly the whole thing was, the woman who was pushing for Wesley Clark was nice enough to display some flyers and bumperstickers for Kucinich before I got there. I did the same for her later when she stepped out for lunch.

I figured that people coming in the door had probably made up their minds already, so I decided to hand out flyers down the street in front of the post office. My pamphleteering technique was pitifully passive. I really didn't want to perform hard-sell tactics on anyone, so I decided to just ask them all if they knew about the Democratic Caucus that was happening today. Then when they saw my button and sticker emblazoned with Kucinich, I hoped they might ask for a handout from the pile of them in my hand.

I evolved a set of excuses for not saying anything, not bothering people, like if they didn't make eye contact with me, or if two people were having a conversation, then I wouldn't want to interrupt. There were a few people who said they didn't know about the caucus, so maybe one or two of them voted.

At least one guy said he was going to vote for Kucinich (or already had). Another guy smiled and said, "I'd vote for your guy in a heartbeat if he...uh..."

"-Was doing better," I finished for him. But he had voted for Edwards. I said, "As long as you voted for somebody."

Then there was a woman who told me she had lived in Cleveland while Kucinich was mayor. She smiled and maintained a friendly demeanor while telling me that he had said some dumb things when he was younger, he was a "jackass" actually, but she admired the way he was unafraid to talk about whatever he believed in.

One guy asked who Kucinich would endorse if he dropped out. I mentioned the deal that he made with Edwards during the Iowa Caucuses, but I said it didn't sound like a permanent alliance necessarily. The guy said that his band was playing at a coffee house that night, and that they could give us a few minutes with the microphone if we wanted it. But I knew voting ended at 4 PM, so I didn't think it would help to talk later in the night.

As people passed by, I wondered how many of them might be Republicans, what their reactions would be. I started wondering if I could spot one from a distance. By stereotypes, you'd think that working class people would be Democrats, but then hicks seem to prefer Republicans. Plenty of crossover between hicks and the working class. At least two people responded by saying "No, thank you," when I asked if they knew about the Democratic Caucus. They weren't shitty about it though. The lady who said it even commented about the weather when she came back out of the post office.

Did I mention the weather? All this only lasted about an hour and a quarter before my fingers and toes caused me concern, and I stepped lively back to the Dems HQ.

The worst reaction to my question, "Do you know about the Democratic Caucus vote being held today?" was a man who held up his hands, searching for the right words for his frustration, and said, "I've had a belly full of that bullshit already." He wasn't smiling. I assumed that he was a Republican, or maybe just someone who was sick of hearing and reading horse-race politics in the news every day. But when he came back out, he said, "Don't get me wrong, I'm going to vote. But your guy, I think you picked the wrong guy."

I said, "That's okay, as long as you vote for somebody." At the time I thought he meant that he was going to vote in the caucus, but now I'm not sure if he just meant voting in November. Wanted to distance himself from those 50% of Americans who commit the sin of not voting at all.

Warming Up Inside The Belly of The Machine

After my stint out in the cold, I returned to the politically charged strip of territory inside the Democratic HQ. All I really wanted was a cup of coffee, but the cookies and goodies were all arrayed on the other side of the line. I never worked up the nerve to flag down one of the ladies who probably would have cheerily reached one for me across the line of scrimmage.

Michigan State Senator Mark Schauer shook hands and talked with everyone. Another congressional hopeful in suit and tie, black wool overcoat and gray scarf, hung out with Sen. Schauer, shook hands and asked for everyone's support. He looked almost my age (31) except for bits of gray in his hair.

Two young petitioners were trying to get someone named Vargas* on the ballot for a state legislative spot. When Mr. Vargas showed up later, I overheard him talking with the county chairman and some other local bigwig of the Democratic party. One of them was gently chastising the would-be candidate for not contacting them sooner. Vargas said he was unfamiliar with the rules for becoming a candidate and apologized. After smoothing over that hiccup, the two local political veterans started grooming 25 year old Mr. Vargas for office.

Have you got a suit?

Just bought one.
You need three more.

I thought maybe it would make me more approachable, you know, more working class if I--
Take our advice. Three more suits. Just like a job interview, you gotta look right. People won't take you seriously otherwise.

They asked about some of his policy positions, and this guy laid it out as if he needed to convince two avowed Democrats to change their positions to pro-choice or pro-working class. [Later that night, I visited his website. I like the fact that he's willing to criticize the national Democratic party while running within the party. I laughed at how many times he used the phrase "working party" within a few pages. "It is time to have a member of the working class working for the working class in Washington." But I'd certainly vote for him to replace the misrepresentative war apologist currently holding that seat.]

On the Clark side, there was Bernadette, retired researcher. She kept our friendly small talk moving with questions, since I was too tired or cold to fully engage in the conversation, apart from answering. In Dean's corner was Chris, a man about my age or slightly older, attractive and serious in a shirt and jacket but no tie. I would have sworn he was a paid staffer because he had mad skillz, but turned out he was a free volunteer. He had driven from Southgate (over an hour).

Later Bernadette switched off with a guy named John who was a great storyteller. This was the guy who convinced me to volunteer for Kucinich, even though he supports Clark.

For half an hour, we had our moment of greatest strength. Richard had come with John, so this meant that there was one Dean volunteer, one Clark volunteer (Bernadette had split) and TWO Kucinich volunteers! I gloated quietly, as if it would make any difference. But a Dean staffer showed up later, so we lost our tiny majority.

Richard was way more aggressive. He talked to every person coming through the door, asking if they'd heard about Kucinich, handing them flyers, suggesting they checked out the fourth talking point (free pre-school and college for everyone). He even accosted some of them after they finished voting. He had to leave before long because he wasn't feeling good. Are you ready for a description of the perfect oddball supporter of the most oddball candidate? Richard is 74, an organic health food nut, a veteran, still runs a tree farm. He pointed to the Kucinich button on his shirt and said, "This is cause I'm an idealist," then to the Clark button on his shirt and said, "This is cause I'm a realist."

The only other excitement for the afternoon was when an elderly man came in the door and looked around, apparently not interested in voting. Half an inch of snot dangled from the top of his coat's zipper. He asked if I'd buy a pair of gloves from him for a dollar. I did. Later he came back and asked if I wanted the other pair of gloves too, because he needed a dollar to get to the store. I gave him the dollar and tried to make him keep the second pair of gloves, but he gave them to me. Later he asked if I could spare three more dollars so he could get some cough drops. I put up some resistance, and only gave him another dollar. On the last trip, he asked if I could spare a pair of those gloves he had sold me, and he'd pay me back Monday.

For the last half hour or so, I felt like we were slacking off on the job. John and Chris both grew up in New England, so they talked about Rhode Island and Boston, plus areas of Texas that both of them had lived in or passed through. Voters coming and going seemed like a distraction from John's story about a rich old landlady who nearly tempted him to become a gigolo during his college days.

Four o'clock rolled around and John showed some card tricks while they tallied the vote and called out the numbers from each voting site. It sounded good at first, about what I expected, Kerry 33, Dean 10, Edwards 10, Kucinich 1. Then they read off the numbers for our voting site, Kerry 54, Dean 13, Clark 12, Edwards 14, Kucinich 4, Sharpton 4. I thought 4% sounded really good, and then I realized they weren't talking percents. They were talking about 54 votes, 13 votes, 4 votes for Kucinich. Probably still in the range of 1% or 2%.

It was a little depressing when I thought that two of the votes for Kucinich were mine and Melinda's, one other must have been a Kucinich organizer who had contacted us. So that means maybe one person other than us volunteers voted for him. I spent 6 hours smiling at people, some of it in the cold, opening doors for people at the post office, and it probably had no effect for Kucinich.