wordplay: Orangepeelmoses.com
I credit both Lorin Ashton, better known as Bassnectar, and my extremely well-read father Alan, a Vietnam vet, for my initial interest in politics. Kerry’s loss to the “Bu$hdoctor” in 2004 left me a bit disillusioned, though, along with many others. When my friend Tanya first invited me to an Obama house meeting, I was reluctant, to say the least. The meeting was scheduled for a Sunday, and although I often work seven days a week, I had recently gotten into the “Sunday Funday” summer spirit, pool party hopping on the regular. Even though our publisher Greg Bloom had been in talks with different Democratic groups about throwing parties during the Convention for months, I credit Gonzo, the new Hunter S. Thompson documentary, with recently rekindling my interest in the subject. First, I picked up a copy of Thompson’s Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail at the Tattered Cover, and then I ganked Obama’s Audacity of Hope from my singing telegram agency boss. Although I’d seen Obama’s race speech on YouTube, Audacity immediately reminded me of his eloquent way with words. I finally realized that cutting a few hours out of my Sunday Funday pool party hopping schedule couldn’t hurt too severely.
Salsa is my most common potluck contribution. My dad makes a mean homemade batch called South Park, named not for the cartoon but for the same Fairplay ghost town that inspired its title. South Park Salsa in hand, I arrived on Tanya’s doorstep for the house meeting. Inside, I was introduced to an Obama campaign volunteer named Courtney Lewis. Courtney had come all the way from Washington to spend her summer working for the Great Black Hope in Colorado. “The rest of the world has already elected Obama,” said the cab driver who drove her to the airport, “We’re just waiting for Americans to do so.” Mark Ferrandino, our District 2 State Representative, was also present, as well as nearly a dozen of Tanya’s other friends. The kitchen was stocked with fruit salad, spinach artichoke dip, smoothies and eventually scrumptious vegan cupcakes, but all I saw were plastic plates. “If I promise to wash it myself, can I use an actual plate?” I asked Tanya. I refuse to use disposable dishware or cutlery anymore, as our landfills have enough to worry about. “Don’t worry, I plan on re-using them,” Tanya assured me.
After a half hour or so of socializing, we all gathered around a flat screen for a three minute video about house meetings called Unite for Change. Courtney took the floor upon its conclusion and asked each of us to introduce ourselves and briefly explain why we had come. An African American male and former Florida resident had waited in line for three hours once, only to be told he was at the wrong polling place. “The lesser of two weasels,” was one woman’s long prevailing view on politics. The climate scientist in the room believed Obama was our only hope for the drastic and unpopular legislation necessary to combat global warming. “It’s easy to point fingers at SUV and Hummer drivers, but air conditioning is one of the absolute worst culprits.” Courtney concluded with a spiel about volunteering for voter registration drives (they’d prayed with Reverend Jesse Jackson mere hours earlier), hosting your own house meeting and applying for a mail-in ballot, a highly recommended option. “Sometimes people tell me they would prefer to go to the polls in person on November 4th,” she said, “Have you been to the polls, I ask them?” Good point.
BarackObama.com