Man, how times have changed: a white woman and a Black man, front runner nominees! What's a girl to do?Well, Hillary was on the board of Wal*Mart of 6 years and NEVER spoke up in favor of employee unionization.
AND she voted for the invasion.
The end.
So, I never go to political rallies. Well, rarely. When Sonia Johnson ran for Prez, I was there. When Mohammed Ali's counsin, whatshisname ran for congress on the Rainbow Party ticket, I was there -- but really only cuz Jesse Jackson was gonna speak.
So, Bill Clinton was in town yesterday, but I passed. Apparantly, Teddy Kennedy was at the Hispanic Cultural center, for some reason. I thought he was Irish.
ANYway, Obama was having a thing at the MUCH too tiny for the crowd that showed convention center. Lotsa peeps said it shoulda been at the PIT! Steep & scarey, but holds a crowd.
So, they say doors open at 11:30. I was there 11:15. CCccccolder than hell on the windy street. the line OUTSIDE was a block long, and thousands (but I didn't know that at the time) were snaking their way through several other convention rooms inside!
So, we get in and I'm thinkin: Where are the metal detectors? the bomb sniffing dogs? the cops and other security with weapons and wands? nothing.
Well, they herd us into the HUGE room, with a line of over a thousand people, snaking around.
No concessions stands are open, anywhere. Oh! To have had a pot of hot water, instant cocoa and styrofoam cups, outside! I coulda sold cheap, nestle's quick for $2.00/cup and NOBODY would have given me grief! I coulda paid off all my credit cards! I ain't kiddin: it was COLD!
THere's two, huge tv screens in the room, so I'm thinking: overflow.
It took about an hour to get through that room and come out almost exactly where we came in.
They were hawking obama buttons for FIVE BUCKS EACH!!! Remember when campaign buttons were FREE???? They WANTED you to have them????
ANYWAY, now, we gotta climb the stairs. That took about 20 minutes.
Upstairs, I see metal detectors in the opposite direction of where we're herded. OH NO! Another snake room!
But, in THIS one, they say, turn on your electronics (I guess so they'll know they're not BOMBS!) They say, get metal out of your pockets. Ladies, get purses ready for inspection. I read the website: no bags.
We get around to the other side of the room and I look where we'd just been: NO PEOPLE!
On the staircase, I could see out a window. The line had stretched all the way around the convention center. THOUSANDS more were waiting to get in!
So, I'm thinking: they're turned away. WHY did they hand out SO MANY tickets???? Just to get contact info, I'm thinking.
We're maybe 10 feet from the exit to that room, which is just across the hall from the metal detectors.
Volunteers say we have to go BACK DOWN to the overflow room!
HELL! Two hours, standing on cold concrete, with my gimpy leg!
So, I go back down, thinking, I'll just leave. I wanted to see the first Black president of the United States of American IN PERSON! I can ALWAYS see him on a SCREEN in my own home, in my jammies, thanks.
I hear screaming from the overflow room. I'd have thought he'd visit AFTER his scheduled speech. He's gotta be in there!
I walk in and HUNDREDS of people are standing on ricketty convention tables & chairs, cell phones held high, to snap a photo.
People behind me push me out of the way to go stand in the herd and scream.
I walked AROUND them, behind the screens, with only the press and some cops standing there.
I asked a young cop if I could just poke my head around a huge, concrete pillar; I just wanted to see him.
The kid said ok.
I must say, coming from a generation that still remembers the fire hoses, the dogs, the whites only signs, I felt tears in my eyes, seeing him.
He's pretty tall. And he's REALLY thin! His suit trousers hung as though empty. I don't think he even has a butt!
The crowd was dangerously excited and it scared me. NONE of these people had been through metal detectors, remember.
I saw secret service agents, jaws locked, eyes scanning the crowd. Some actually looked worried. I also saw plainclothed somebodys in the crowd, some with ear pieces.
It looked dangerous to me.
And here he comes.
I feel the crazed fans -- not voters, fans -- pushing into me. There's a steel barracade and a camera tripod in front of me; there's no place for me to go! They're pressing into me and reaching their hands over me, hitting my ears and neck!
A flock of security began to slowly pass me. When I could catch an individual's eye, I thanked him, for they were all men. I said, take care of him. And take care of yourselves, too. Be careful.
The barracade bruised my belly and lowest ribs.
The crowd behind me sounded like a tornado: wild and ruthless, unpredictable and destructive.
I was scared, but I couldn't move.
And here he is, standing in front of me, letting secret service pass him so he can exit.
He looks so tired. He looks so young. He looks so determined. He looks so determined.
The hands stretched around and in front of me flap like wounded birds.
I put mine out, just to see what will happen. There are so many hands, what are the odds he'll shake mine.
And there it is: a long, bony grasp, warm, firm but gentle. And he lingered there long enough to squeeze almost affectionately.
The crowd is hysterical, mindless. He knows this. His smile is professional, meaningless, expected.
He passes, moving with a bubble of very lethal and concerned security.
The pushing subsides as the crowd shifts like iron filings before a magnet.
Right at the door, I hear them murmer, "aw!" as Obama picks up a grubby, snotty baby, holds it shoulder high, shows all his teeth -- is that a smile, or is he planning to EAT it? while the crowd brandishes its cell phones.
I'm free now. I leave while they glut on some mindless celebrity worship.
I'm heading for the doors where I came in.
Camera people rush past. One guy hits me with his boom mic.
Why are they running out? Isn't he about to speak? Did a wino blow up in Civic Plaza, across the street?
Oh, no! Is that crazy fool going OUT THERE?
By the time I get outside, a flock of the turned away is cheering.
On the stage stands Obama, with a faulty bull horn that screetches madly. I yell, hold the speaker away from the MIC! He's got the speaker right under his arm; the mic is in his other hand, less than a foot from the speaker!
He finally gives up on the bull horn and gives it to someone.
I've never heard a throng get so quiet before.
He spoke a few generic platitudes about togetherness, medical care for all, economic security and ending the war.
Sounded nice, but HOW?
I walked back to the sidewalk, now swathed in police tape. That was fast!
APD looked worried. Secret Service looked overwhelmed.
I sat and watched the direction he'd have to go to get back inside the Convention Center and thought, please let him get back alive.
When I saw he had crossed the street and disappeared, I ignored the police tape and walked back to my truck, parked blocks away -- but for FREE!
I saw a business on the next block with a huge Obama sign out front.
They make hand-carved furniture. I walked in. The tile floor was slippery with a fine dusting of sawdust. The place was saturated with farnish smell.
I could hear the song on KUNM I'd been listening to in the truck.
One bedraggled, bearded hippy dude appeared from the work shop.
He told me Obama headquarters is on 10th & Lomas, about 6 blocks away.
So, the truck now has a 10'x4' Obama sign on the driver's side.
And I shook hands with the first Black President of the United States.
Then, I went to the feed store, and life went back to normal, mostly.
Except, lotsa people honked happily at my giant sign. One guy yelled, I ain't votin for no nigger, which is about the best endorsement FOR Obama I've heard yet.
Quite a day.
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