California Geezer for Obama

IMBY

2009-05-20T15:45:00.000-07:00

On the news, I watch our brave House and Senate members from various states, standing their ground, boldly asserting that “no Guantanamo detainee will ever reside in my state.”
Profiles in courage.
I’ve decided to swim against the tide. I am putting out the welcome prayer mat to Gitmo detainees.
In my back yard.
Let not it be said that Francis Moss ever shrunk from the tough jobs.
Of course, the government will need to build a secure facility in my back yard. I will turn over my kitchen for the preparation of the halal food those guys will want to eat. At night I will turn on the outdoor lights. I can set up speakers to broadcast calls to prayer.
My yard isn’t that big, but I figure if we stack the detainees vertically, we can just about fit them all, with a few square yards left over for exercise. If necessary the government has my permission to take over the house of my neighbor with the annoying dog, if more space is needed.
I think a thousand dollars per prisoner per week will be adequate payment for the sacrifice I’m willing to make. I have photographs of my back yard I will email to the appropriate authorities so they can start making plans.
I await the call.

Postscript… on the airplane from Cleveland to Burbank

2008-11-06T04:34:00.000-08:00

I think my fear for our country has metamorphosed into a fear for President-elect Obama. Or vice-versa. I can remember the depression and funk our country fell into after the assassinations of the Kennedys and MLK. Some optimistic heart of America grew dark after that. I hadn’t felt much light until this year.
Watching those people in Grant Park, the tears and optimism and joy on those white and brown and yellow faces, made me more afraid than hopeful. If something bad happens, it’s all over for us. If something bad happens, we are already so deep in cynicism and doubt that we can never come out of it.
Ultimately, the election was about more than a politician, even a charismatic and eloquent one like Barack Obama. It was about Americans regaining, however tentatively, their capacity for hope again. Even those too young to have lived through the age of assassinations have their lives colored by it.
Or maybe it’s all the other stuff we’re going through, the failing wars, the terrible economy, the endless corruption and malfeasance in the highest offices in our land, that make our anticipation so dreadful and our last’s night’s joy so tentative.
I remember a young black woman in East Cleveland, getting out of her car to talk to me while I was canvassing. I said it was important to get out the vote because the bastards had stolen two elections, and we can’t let them steal a third.
With an angry glint in her eye, she said, “If they do, we are gonna tear this country up.”
Good thing Barack won by such a big margin.

I think I’m done here. Thanks to everyone who sent me messages of support, to those who were off doing Obama stuff on their own, and to those who just read and maybe even enjoyed this blog. Gobama.

The geezer goes home

2008-11-05T06:44:00.000-08:00

I watch the bloviating on TV this morning, getting ready to head for the airport. It is still not quite real. Watching Obama’s victory speech last night, I kept waiting for the gunshot to ring out. Some nutcase thinking he’s “doing the Lord’s work.”
A long time friendship might be lost as a result of this election. I wrote a high school friend about the “game-changing” nature of Obama’s (at the time) potential election. I got back a long and very angry email about Obama’s “hidden agenda” which to my friend means socialism. He rails against Obama’s associations (Revko, Ayres, Wright), ignores McCain’s actual acts (Keating Five, serial adultery).
I guess we all need to find reasons for our feelings. But I told him that the reality of an Obama Presidency would most likely be somewhere between the 2nd Coming and the reign of Satan on Earth.
We shall see. There are a lot of frightened people out there. Is it Obama’s race? His “socialist” agenda? Maybe both. We all need to do some reaching out.
I wound up watching the returns with my hosts, and not going to any parties. For those waiting for the racy pictures, I apologize. I was too tired.

Obama wins Ohio!

2008-11-04T19:07:00.000-08:00

Phyllis calls me the moment that Ohio is projected for Obama. Of course I take credit for the win. As of 10:08 PM, Virginia is still up in the air. Since Virginia was the other state I considered volunteering in, I suspect it would be in the Obama win column had I gone.

Confronting racism

2008-11-04T19:03:00.000-08:00

We start out as just another day of canvassing. Of course that it’s election day gives it an additional frisson of urgency. It’s GOTV… Get Out The Vote.

We operate out of Donna’s cozy house in western Lakeshore. Donna was an office person until we opened satellite offices in the neighborhoods, to attract more local volunteers and get more canvassing done.

Volunteers–ones I never see—deliver six-foot sub sandwiches, cases of water and soda, candy and fruit. We canvassers don’t go hungry.

Right as I begin the afternoon canvass, we get an emergency call from an east Cleveland office. They need help. We pile into cars and head off. We’re the Obama Campaign Lakeshore Flying Squad.

East Cleveland is another world. We pass street after street of abandoned factories, warehouses and apartment buildings, with boarded up windows and lawns gone to weeds. It is a nearly 100% black part of town.

The East Cleveland Obama campaign office has problems. I guess local volunteers haven’t shown up, so we take over.

My friend Alex and I cover one “turf” (a three block area in a precinct). It’s almost as if it doesn’t matter that the canvass didn’t get done. Every single person I talk to (and a lot more folks are at home than in the Lakeshore neighborhoods) has already voted. For Obama, of course. And they are universally friendly and enthusiastic.

The only racism I confront is my own. I am careful to park my car within sight of my canvass. And not because it might get towed. And I kind of urge Alex to canvass with me, instead of going alone, as I do in Lakeshore.

Feeling the warmth of the people we canvass, I am embarrassed at my bigotry.

Door hangers; kids for Obama

2008-11-04T05:22:00.000-08:00

Monday after the rally, we canvass neighborhoods, but only to put those door hangers on every door in Lakeshore. On a sunny street, two boys about 10 or 11 are playing outside – in tee shirts! In Cleveland! In November!
We say hi, and I offer them an Obama button. One boy takes one, the other doesn’t, telling me his grandpa doesn’t like Obama.
On my return trip down the street, the little boy shows up, looking a bit downcast. He returns the button I’d given him, with the explanation: “My sister’s boyfriend says Obama stinks.” As he’s walking away, he adds: “But I still like him.”

Obama rally clips

2008-11-04T04:50:00.000-08:00

Here are a few sound bites from Obama’s speech:

Obama in Cleveland

2008-11-03T18:14:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, Emily asks me to volunteer to help out during Obama’s rally on Sunday. I sign up, imagining that at least I’d get to shake the senator’s hand; possibly even get to tell him my seven-point program for improving the economy, ending the war and providing medical care for all.
The rally is out of doors in downtown Cleveland at a wide grassy area called the Mall. I take the RTA train with Sara, a woman from NYC who’s a Volunteer Coordinator for the campaign.

The Obama rally, scheduled for 3:45 PM, is preceded by a Cleveland Browns – Baltimore Ravens game at the stadium a short walk from the mall, so we have lots of fans in orange and brown on the train.
It’s sunny and rather warm for November. Global warming or the weather god’s blessing on the rally? You decide.
Fifty or so volunteers gather and mill about at the adjoining grassy area. Stacey, from the Obama advance team, gives instructions:

Not everyone who shows up is going to get in, and there will be many sad stories about why someone MUST be allowed in. Volunteers are to be polite but firm.
People in wheelchairs and those with VIP badges go to the head of the line.
Volunteers may not run or yell.
No signs or banners.
We get to wear little paper badges that say “Volunteer.” Later I wish for a brass badge and a weapon.
We must join a team before we know what job we have.

I am on Team Seven, along with about twenty other folks. Tito, our team leader (you get to be a team leader if you’d been to a meeting the night before), tells us we are on line control. At noon, the line to get into the mall is already two blocks long. And we are at the end of it.

This means we are far away from the rally area. Rats! I might not get to deliver my seven point plan.

Herding cats

It’s 12:30. The line ends at 9th and St. Clair. The organizers decide to have newcomers begin another line across the street, a continuation of the original line, stretching south on 9th, instead of continuing round the corner.
That means that for the next three hours we stand at the end of the line telling arrivals that yes, this looks like the end of the line it, but it isn’t. Over and over and over.
The Cleveland Plain Dealer reports 80,000 people at the rally. By the end of our shift we have told approximately 40,000 people that no, this isn’t the end of the line, it’s down 9th street.
By 3:30 the actual end of the line is a mile or two south of us.
People are pissed. They try to cut in line, tell us they’re joining friends, tell us we are rude and insensitive and the reason they’re changing their vote.
I yell for help, and instantly regret it, although no panic ensues. At least I don’t run.
When the line finally starts moving, the folks in the line across the street get to join in bunches. Now line cutting begins in earnest. People who’ve been waiting for hours complain to me that so and so cut in front of them.
Tito and I almost get into a fight with a jerk who refuses to leave. “My line is right here,” he says.
We ask for help from a motorcycle cop, who points out the obvious: “Sorry, guys, but there is no law against cutting in line.”
I realize that the police and sheriffs and Secret Service and private security have more important things to do.
To quiet the complainers, I repeat the motor officer’s line, and add one of my own: “The people in line need to stop letting others cut in.”
Translation from Freddie Prinze in Chico & The Man: “Ees-not my job.”
Now we get word: The area is filled. We are to cut off the line and lead the remaining folks around the block to Mall C, where they can watch the event on giant screens.
Yeah, sure. No problem. “I’ll get right on that,” I tell Team Leader Kathryn.
The few hundred people just walk around us, cross the street and cross back, wait till we look the other way.
By 5 PM, many hopefuls have given up. There are maybe two hundred people left. We volunteers are bunched up at the TSA/Secret Service/Cleveland Police security gate, where the diehards press up against us trying to get in. I face off with a guy in a Cleveland Browns jersey whose chest is at my eye level. We exchange barbed pleasantries on the topic of why I can’t let him in.
Then, the organizers decide to let some more folks in.
Maybe a hundred more get in, then the Secret Service calls it quits. They manage it with more authority than the volunteers. They have guns.
But now, guess what? We volunteers get to go in!
I don’t get to deliver my seven point plan, but I can listen to Bruce Springsteen at eardrum-blasting levels, and find a spot about twenty-five feet from the Illinois senator as he delivers his speech.
If I weren’t such a cynic, I’d say the hassle was worth it.

I’ll have more about Obama’s speech later, along with some sound bites.

Another neighborhood canvass

2008-11-02T05:11:00.000-08:00

More Obama supporters; always a good sign. I want Ohio to be a state that doesn’t matter to Obama’s victory; but I want the turnout to large enough so that the crooks can’t steal it.
On Marlowe Street I meet another Dave who’s not going to vote for Obama. What is it with people named David? Does McCain have some kind of hold on them?
This Dave is a guy in his thirties, loading trash from a house into a dumpster. His house wasn’t on my list, but he sees me walking past on the sidewalk and asks if I was working for Obama. He tells me that nobody had come by for McCain.
I answer, “That’s because they have to pay them. I came all the way from California and I’m doing this for free.”
Dave’s jaw literally drops: “You must be rich.”
I shake my head. “Southwest has cheap fares and I have a place to stay.”
I ask Dave if he’s voting for Obama. “No way,” he says. “There’s just too many questions.” Dave goes on to recite the usual right wing claptrap: Bill Ayres, Hawaii’s refusal to release his birth certificate, etc.
I have no answer about the birth certificate, but tell him the truth about Obama’s relationship with Ayres. I also point out that there are few questions but lots of answers about McCain: helped Keating steal 250 billion dollars, a serial adulterer, not a Christian, etc., etc., but Dave only says he’s not necessarily voting for McCain either.
We go at it for a bit, but I have to move on. “If you’re around at noon or so, come back. I’ll buy you a beer,” Dave says.
Again I am surprised. We are on opposite sides, but on some other level we hit it off. I don’t go back for the beer, though. I am beginning to understand that the whole “too many questions” issue is really code for “I can’t vote for a black guy.” I don’t want to get into that.
BTW, I heard today that Hawaii officials state positively that Obama’s birth certificate is genuine. Yes, he is an American citizen

Scarlett Johansson & Mandy Patinkin oh my

2008-11-01T16:56:00.000-07:00

A canvass of what the Obama organizers call a “turf” usually means knocking on 50 or so doors, up one side and down the other of three or four adjoining streets in a neighborhood. Most people, even on a Saturday, are not home or aren’t answering the door. I hear the TV volume go down when I step on the porch.
Oh yeah, I have a doorbell update:
Nineteen out of twenty doorbells in Cleveland do not work.
I arrived at the satellite office, which was our office overseer Donna’s house, about 9 AM. I was determined to try and make it back to the Lakeshore office for Scarlett Johansson. I managed to finish my canvassing, get some lunch and arrive at the office in time.

We had a surprise celebrity: Mandy Patinkin, star of TV and Broadway. He said we are fortunate to be working for Barack Obama, and fortunate to be living in this time. He was both inspired and inspiring. He spoke about how his visits to Obama office around the country have made him proud, and about the astonishing transformation he’s witnessed between 2004 and 2008. “In the Kerry offices, there were ten or twenty people filing papers, drinking coffee. I go into an Obama office and there are forty people, energized, alive, ready to go out and make a difference.”
Scarlett, on the other hand, was mostly there to look pretty, which she did quite well, and get her picture taken with everyone in the room.

Tomorrow Obama is coming to speak in Cleveland. Emily asked me to volunteer for the event. I asked if we’d be lying down to form a living carpet for Obama to walk on. She thought we might be spelling out his name with our bodies.

Moving day

2008-11-01T05:01:00.000-07:00

Today we abandon the main Obama Lakeshore office for four satellite offices, spread throughout Lakeshore. This is supposed to make it easier for folks in the neighborhoods to come in and volunteer for the get out the vote drive. The satellite staffs are named after characters in Buffy the Vampire Slayer: we have the Xander/Buffy, Angel, Cordelia and Willow teams. I’m on the Willow team. Cool. I always liked Alyson Hannigan.
The downside: I will be out of the office when Scarlett Johannson makes her appearance this afternoon.

Feeding the masses

2008-11-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

There are sometimes twenty or thirty people working in the campaign office, and we do get hungry. Neighborhood folks are very nice about donating food. In one corner there are two tables overflowing with chips, Halloween candy, bread, coffee, soft drinks, sweet rolls, and occasionally fresh fruit.
I am doing paperwork in the office last evening when Walter, a big guy in his early sixties, brings in food. It’s a turkey-sized foil pan with giant sausage, sauerkraut and a flour-butter bread dish all mixed together.
Walter is an excellent cook. I did not see that many people in the office, but in fifteen minutes the pan is empty. Walter explains that the dish was Hungarian, the sausage is called kolbas (like kielbasa). Walter tells me about a stuffed cabbage dish he makes using whole leaves that have been pickled.
Walter has a band and he plays once a year in Whittier. It’s East European music with a little bit of klezmer and Jewish music mixed in.

Campaign condo crisis

2008-11-01T04:59:00.000-07:00

The night before we are to do our last get-out-the-vote push a problem arises. Edgewater, also called “the Gold Coast,” where I am staying, is filled with high-rise condominiums and apartment buildings, most secured with passkeys. In some, there’s a guard at a desk. A visitor can’t get in without being admitted by a resident.
The Lakeshore Obama office plans to go door to door in the wards it covers, which includes the Gold Coast. And includes the condos.
The canvassers are expected to get into the high rises and knock on doors. My hosts, Ben and Monica, are sure this is a Bad Idea. Residents expect privacy and security, Ben tells me. Example: Some flyers for Maria’s Pizza appeared on doorsteps in their building Wednesday, which led to the building manager calling Maria’s and chewing them out.
If strange people appear in condo hallways and knock on doors, someone is going to call the police, and the Obama campaign will have a problem.
Ben thinks it’s a case of the campaign not thinking things through. While I am also inclined to blame stupidity rather than conspiracy, I’m cynical enough to believe that someone, somewhere in the campaign hierarchy, has thought about this, and decided that the risk is worth the reward of getting out more voters.
Last night Monica called the Obama office and her local city councilwoman—who also lives in a high rise—and things are happening. Stay tuned.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object

2008-11-01T04:57:00.000-07:00

My second day canvassing I ran into Dave, a retired Teamster, who angrily told me: “I’m from Missouri. I can’t vote for that guy.” I thought about exploring the racial overtones of that remark, but instead mentioned that my grandmother was from Lake of the Ozarks. Dave warmed up quite a bit. “We used to vacation there.”
The more we talked the more it turned out that Dave’s big problem with the Democrats in general and Obama in particular is that they won’t drill for oil in the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge while Americans are suffering. He told about a young woman (I don’t know if she was someone he knew or someone he’d heard about) who couldn’t take her kids to the doctor because she couldn’t afford the gas.
His wife, who barely acknowledged my presence, came outside and gave him a jacket as we started to talk. Dave offered me a seat on his porch swing. I mentioned the environment, but Dave didn’t care about it. Why worry about the environment when people are hurting?
I pointed out that Obama and other smart Democrats know that, as long as we use more oil than we can produce, we are in trouble, and we can’t drill our way out of the mess we’re in.
But Dave would have none of it. The longer we talked, the more I felt he didn’t really want to learn anything, he’d never change his mind or agree with me about anything. He just wanted to talk with someone besides his wife.
Canvassing has nothing in common with a scientific survey, but my unscientific observations suggest that more than a few Cleveland doors have lonely people behind them.
I promised Dave I‘d call him with more information. He gave me his phone number.

Cleveland, the birthplace of rock ‘n roll

2008-10-31T05:52:00.000-07:00

Somebody once said, if you can remember the 60s, you weren’t there. In order to get my memory back, I went to Cleveland’s Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame and Museum last Saturday. The history part is a series of rooms with display cases containing guitars, posters, costumes (Tina Turner’s fringe and John Lennon’s Sgt. Pepper uniform), and a million other items, starting with the 1930s blues and winding up in the modern era.
The Hall of Fame has films of all the inductees up to 2008, including the Ventures.
Remember the Ventures? I didn’t, at first. But then, it was from the 60s. They were a Seattle band, formed in 1958 by two masonry workers. And they were popular. They toured for twenty years, turned out fifteen or more albums. They are (I quote from Wikipedia): “the best selling instrumental group of all time.” Here’s one you’ll recognize:
Hawaii 5-0 Theme - The Ventures
The Museum has listening areas where you can put on headphones and choose music from a touch screen. I wonder how often they clean the headphones?
They have five or six screening rooms showing films on the history of rock.
All in all, it was a fun trip into our history.

I wandered around downtown Cleveland for a while. It’s like downtown LA used to be. I was told they are trying to upgrade the area but, on weekends it seems to be the home of the homeless.

Two views from the real America

2008-10-30T05:24:00.000-07:00

James, a 78 year old phone company retiree, is a pretty funny guy. I am canvassing on Reveley Avenue, a nice street in Lakewood. I walk up as he’s getting out of his car.
“Hi, I’m Francis Moss, and I’m a volunteer for the Obama campaign. Are you James _______?”
James, with exquisite comic timing, pulls out his wallet and checks his driver’s license. “Yep.”
But he sees nothing funny about this election. “I’m a lifetime member of the NRA and those Democrats want to take away my guns.”
I tell him that Obama has said he does not want to do that, but James has read the articles in the NRA magazine, and they say different. He allows that they might be lying, but he’s just not sure. He’s no fan of McCain either, and thinks he just might not vote at all.
I am torn. We canvassers aren’t supposed to spend time trying to change minds at this late stage. We motivate the Obama supporters to vote early and get them to volunteer to help get out the vote. The Obama leaners we try to persuade to commit. I take the plunge.
I ask if his guns are more important than health care for his grandchildren, or ending this endless war. James says no, but he’s not even persuaded that our Congress has the will to do anything, especially if it threatens the corporations who donate so generously to those congressmen.
Unfortunately, I agree with him, and say so. But I argue that if we give up on voting just because things aren’t going the way we think they ought, than we might as well hand our country over to the corporations right now. I thank him for his time.
Over on Elmwood Avenue, Rosalie is also 78, but she lives in a different world from James. She pokes her head out the screen door, spots my Obama button, and says:
“You workin’ fer Obama?”
I tell her I am, and ask if she plans to vote for him. Rosalie waves her hand dismissively, “Ahh, I voted fer him a week ago.” She winks at me: “And I made sure my kids voted fer him, too.” She pauses a moment: “That man is gonna do good, I think.”
Rosalie looks around conspiratorially and tells me with a sly grin: “My next door neighbor is a Republican, so don’t tell him.”
Promising not to breathe a word, I thank her for her vote and move on.

In no particular order…

2008-10-29T11:07:00.000-07:00

Households in Cleveland’s poor neighborhoods are more likely to have dogs than households in Cleveland’s middle class neighborhoods.
~~Three out of four houses in Cleveland have non-working doorbells.~~
~~Nine out of ten houses in Cleveland have non-working doorbells.~~ See Nov 1 update.
Even if the sun is shining, front windows mostly have their shades down.
Whichever side of the street you are on, it’s the other side that has the parking.
Scarlett Johannson is coming to the Lakeshore Obama office this Friday.

People are tired of hearing the McCain-Palin campaign talk abut how much money Barack Obama is going to take from you. Use this website to calculate how much in taxes you will pay with each candidate’s tax plan. http://taxbreak.barackobama.com/

Another good site for election junkies (and who isn’t?) is www.electoral-vote.com. It provides updated state-by-state poll results, news and other information for Presidential, Senate and Congressional races.

Hey dude, where’s my car?

2008-10-29T05:32:00.000-07:00

I parked my Hertz Mazda SUV next to the Lakeshore Obama office, went in to start some work, then went to lunch with Dave, an environmental planner in the NYC Mayor’s office.[An aside: we ate at El Jalapeño, which has pretty good Mexican food… for Cleveland.]
When I came back, the car was gone. I spent a full two minutes reassuring myself that yes, I did park it in that lot, and no, there was no “No Parking” sign posted. It turns out that Baker Motors have the Lakeshore towing franchise. And they also had my Mazda.
In the office, Katherine (my handler) told me that, while I was at lunch, the tow truck driver had been in to ask whose car it was, before he hauled it away.
Baker Motors runs their company out of a dingy little yellow brick building just three blocks from the Obama office. Their yellow and green sign proclaims: "Baker Motors - 'It's Baker again'." Their motto is what the folks in Lakeshore say when they discover their car's been towed.
Inside the dark hallway, a bulletproof glass window separates me from the cashier’s office.
Did you just tow a black Mazda?” I ask. Two overweight men sitting in chairs kind of smirk. Made guys, I think to myself.
“Impounds cost $110,” the overweight guy at the window says. I hand over my cash. He examines my ID. “You’re in Ohio with a California driver’s license and a car from Missouri!” he observes with a chuckle.
Not sure where to go with that. I start feeling I'm in a scene from Goodfellas. Did I amuse him? Finally, I say: “Confusing, huh?”
That doesn’t amuse him or the other wise guy. But the skinny kid who arrives to show me to my car gives me a grin.

Glad to be here; when can I leave?

2008-10-27T05:57:00.000-07:00

A friend emailed me a question I’ve had to think about:
“I have to wonder, now that you're getting a taste of the real America, are you ready to leave yet?”
Friends asked me when I told them I was going to Ohio for the campaign, “why don’t you volunteer someplace warm, like Florida?”
Yes, the cold is a factor (we’re due for some snow today or tomorrow). But so far the folks in the “real America,” have been as warm and friendly as the weather is chilly.
I mentioned my hosts, Ben and Monica. They been as gracious and welcoming as anyone could possibly be. And it has been really encouraging canvassing the neighborhoods. Some really run down and raggedy neighborhoods have some amazing people in them.
I was canvassing with Madeline and we came to a building that looked like it was going to collapse in the street. Its windows and doors were boarded up, trash littered the unlit stairwell. I looked at it, then at the address on my voter list and thought: no one could possibly live here. We exchanged a look: are you sure you want to go up those stairs?
Took a deep breath and up we went.
Cristal, a nineteen year old with a young child lived there. Yes she was going to vote for Obama, despite her Republican father, who was a McCain supporter. Cristal said she had told her dad: “I’m already poor. You want me to vote for some guy who’s going to make things worse?”
So, no I’m not yet ready to come back. Things like that make me feel like I am in the right place.
Of course, another canvasser was told to “go to hell.” Maybe I have to run into a few of those.

Where’s the party?

2008-10-27T05:33:00.000-07:00

I haven’t been invited to any of the volunteer/Obama staffer parties. Most of the workers here are in their 20s, and I suspect they’re afraid I’ll doze off and drool. But, despite all the warnings about getting over-confident (“I have two words for you: New Hampshire.”) and the superstitious among us, rumors are floating about that there is going to be one big party election night. I will post pictures. Especially ones where I have to blur out the faces.

A thousand (paper) cuts; instant karma

2008-10-26T10:17:00.000-07:00

Friday was more mailing and sorting. About forty volunteers at the mail shop (I think it’s called a fulfillment house) were complaining about paper cuts from all the sharp-edged Obama-Biden mailers. I hadn't gotten cut, so I laughed… and immediately got several paper cuts. A fine example of instant karma.
Another fine example: the day after Sara Palin stakes her claim yet again to being just an average working mom, she’s outed for the $150,000 wardrobe malfunction. I am fairly sure that Joe the Plumber frowns on such extravagance.
It’s another paper cut for the McCain-Palin campaign; they are bleeding profusely.
As is the poor Philadelphia woman who claimed she was assaulted by a six foot four black man (cue ominous music) while at an ATM, because of her McCain bumper sticker. That’s yet another paper cut for the right wing bloviaters, like Hugh Hewitt and Fox News, who couldn’t wait to point to her as a victim of just the kind of crime we can expect if Obama wins.
As everyone knows by now, she made it all up. Another paper cut for McCain-Palin.

Street Walking

2008-10-23T18:08:00.000-07:00

Also known as canvassing, or trolling for votes.
Actually going out and talking to people makes up for the mindless mailing job in the morning. Today, we visited about a hundred houses, but only were able to talk to about seven people. Here’s how it works:
At around two PM, Obama computer mavens put together packets with information on voters in neighborhoods around the Lakeshore office.
Each page has a list of names of voters on a particular block. We knock on doors and determine if the voter is At Home (about 20% of the time), Moved, Inaccessible (in a locked apartment building), or Non-Responsive (“Get off my porch!”).
If they answer the door, we ask if they plan to vote for Obama. We record answers on a scale of one to seven. One means yes I’m voting for Obama, three means McCain, seven means I’m for Some Other Guy (I’m guessing Ron Paul, or Ralph Nader). We also encourage them to vote early. You can vote early in Ohio up until election day, but now you have to either mail in a ballot or go to the County Board of Electors office to vote in person.
Finally we ask if they could please possibly, pleasepleasepretty please volunteer.
My completely unscientific poll results: Young people are really, really for Obama. Older people are cynical and resigned.

Another Day at the Office

2008-10-23T18:05:00.000-07:00

Again this morning we were sent to the mailing house to sort, stack and wrap bundles of Obama “literature.”
I have to call it literature. People were looking at me funny when I called it propaganda.
I believe that every citizen in Ohio is going to get at least one, maybe five of these mailers.
Did you know there’s a Licking county in Ohio? A town called Washington Courthouse? And one called Squirrel Town?

Robot Drones for Obama

2008-10-22T19:24:00.000-07:00

This morning, about twenty of us volunteers went to a mailing house where there was bin upon bin of mailers, Obama propaganda. The mailers were sorted by ZIP code. We had to separate out the propaganda by postal route, bundle each stack and wrap three (not one, not two) rubber bands around it. and put it on a pallet to go to the Post office.
It was mind-numbing, repetitive boring work. But getting into a routine really helped. Michelle did the separating, Linda held each bundle so I could put on the rubber bands.

Here is one pallet's worth of mailers.

I started worrying about all the trees represented by the room full of mailers, and all the petroleum products that went into making the paper all slick and shiny.
Michelle said: "If you want to beat the Republicans, you gotta do some stuff you might not like."

Good point. I shut up.

My First Day At the Office

2008-10-22T18:46:00.001-07:00

Here's the Obama office in Lakeshore, a suburb a few miles west of downtown Cleveland. It looks like a raggedy old building, but most of the town's buildings are like that.

In Southern California, we think a building from the 1950s is old.

I arrived at 10 AM. Inside were fifteen or so twenty-something kids... er young people, a few thirty-something and forty-something folks, and a geezer or two (yours truly included).
I met a young black man from Oakland named Coltrane (he's not a musician but loves jazz), a guy named Andy from San Francisco, and Linda from Cape Cod.
More surprising, there was a trio of guys from Ireland and a young woman from Israel, all volunteering for the campaign.

Arriving in Ohio

2008-10-22T17:41:00.000-07:00

It's cold in Cleveland! The wind off Lake Erie puts a nip in the air this California guy isn't used to. But after an easy flight and an hour's wait at the Hertz counter for a car that was supposed to be there!

(Hertz you are no longer number one in my book)

I found my way to Lakeshore, a Cleveland suburb. It was after 10 PM so I couldn't see much, except to notice a lot of really nice looking churches and turn-of-the-century houses. The Ohio for Obama office made arrangements for me to stay with some local folks.
Ben and Monica were gracious and welcoming (more later), and I felt immediately at home except for the cold.

Tomorrow, I'm off to the Obama office.

What to Wear in Cleveland

2008-10-20T18:36:00.000-07:00

The more I think about Paula’s advice, the more worried I get. I will have to wear a disguise. The obvious ones I can kind of figure out: take the peace button off the strap of my Fossil man-purse. No flowered Hawaiian shirts.

But what about the Fossil man-purse? Will Clevelanders point at me and say, “A Californian!!”

I Googled “what to wear in Cleveland.” I got Dora’s Bridal Wear, Gap Kids and American Commodore Tuxedo. Not much help.

But I am upset. I have to pretend to be someone I’m not.

Come on, Francis! What a load!

I pretend to be someone I’m not all the time! when I hand out my business card at Chamber of Commerce events, I pretend I’m a successful businessman. When I go to Writers Guild events, I pretend to be a working writer (along with all the other writers in the room). When you tell me about your trip to Mexico, I pretend to be interested.

I’m just gonna wing it.

I am going to Ohio?!

2008-10-20T18:35:00.000-07:00

My friend Paula has relatives in Ohio. She and her family go back to visit once or twice a year. When I told her i was going to work for Obama in Cleveland, she had one piece of advice:

“Don’t tell them you’re from California."