Obama and the Blizzard
So, myself and one of my coworkers ventured out this morning to El Dorado, Kansas, a mythical place where one can find the vaunted Butler County Community College. Woo! We were supposed to have flurries all day, which we did there for a while. The interstate in between Wichita (the ICT) and El Dorado was all blowy and dangerous, and we amused ourselves by watching the UPS trailer trucks veer left and right in their lanes.
We arrived at campus, approximately 10.30 in the morning. The doors were to be opened at 11.30, with the event starting about 12.40, according to all reports. Former Roomie A and his friend Jess didn't have to be at work today, and went out much earlier to get in line. A sent me a text message when the line reached 100, which was about an hour before we got there. There were very likely 500 people in line by the time we joined the line. The flurries were, at this point, becoming most troublesome. In fact, a lot more like a pain-in-the-ass snowstorm than flurries.
Here's our viewpoint after about an hour in line:
We fought through a human crush to finally get in the building (remarkably, no security), and headed as instructed, south. We get about halfway down a hallway, completely filled with people, when they tell us the south bleachers are full, turn around and go the other way. We do, and go down some stairs, and find ourselves on the floor in proper chairs. This is my point, people who came earlier had to sit closer to each other and farther away from the stage, while we who showed up later got the better seats, proving in my mind that I was *supposed* to be there.
There was a clear air of excitement in the gym, we in Kansas don’t get to do this very often. The people were as varied as you can imagine, old and young and black and white, some in work clothes and some in suits. There was music playing on the PA system, and we watched the media get set up:
A gentleman named Schmuck came out and gave up a little pep talk, and a local woman followed him. We cheered for both of these people. Then we cheered for the guy who came out and put the teleprompter at the right height. We cheered for everybody who crossed the stage. Finally, there’s some excitement at the very front of the room, and people start standing up, and I have to stand up (and get on my toes) as well, and we all cheer, because the man is here!
We get a pretty standard stump speech, preceded with a telling of his ties to El Dorado (his grandparents are from here), and an introduction of the distant relatives and friends in the crowd. The stump speech, tho, is impressive because the man can really deliver a speech. He knows how to move the crowd, and elicit a response from us, and we loved it. The gentleman sitting next to me on my left told me the last time he’d been to political rally was RFK, and a day later RFK was shot. He was concerned that the same might happen here, and I smiled at him and told him it probably wasn’t his fault. He laughed. There was a real overall sense of goodwill and togetherness in the crowd, it’s great but unfamiliar. I liked it.
The speech begins to wind to a close, and Senator Obama tells us he wants to introduce one more friend, Governor Kathleen Sebelius, and again the crowd goes bananas. Our governor is beloved by most of us here, and is a beacon of progressive thought in a pretty conservative (some would say backward) state. She gave the Democratic rebuttal to the State of the Union just the day before this appearance, becoming a face of the party. She gives her official endorsement, and they do a lot of hand-holding, waving in unison, and we all start to think “hmm...”. Could this be a sign of a potential running mate? I don’t want to say anything yet, because I don’t know anything.
The show is basically over, at this point, and the handshakes and photo ops begin. You feel better about politics leaving this place, you feel (despite yourself) hopeful. What a grand thing that is. You think that change, positive change is really possible, and within reach.
So today’s the caucus. I’m going, rain or shine, and standing in line, and cajoling my friends to do the same.
:)
Woo!
We arrived at campus, approximately 10.30 in the morning. The doors were to be opened at 11.30, with the event starting about 12.40, according to all reports. Former Roomie A and his friend Jess didn't have to be at work today, and went out much earlier to get in line. A sent me a text message when the line reached 100, which was about an hour before we got there. There were very likely 500 people in line by the time we joined the line. The flurries were, at this point, becoming most troublesome. In fact, a lot more like a pain-in-the-ass snowstorm than flurries.
Here's our viewpoint after about an hour in line:
We fought through a human crush to finally get in the building (remarkably, no security), and headed as instructed, south. We get about halfway down a hallway, completely filled with people, when they tell us the south bleachers are full, turn around and go the other way. We do, and go down some stairs, and find ourselves on the floor in proper chairs. This is my point, people who came earlier had to sit closer to each other and farther away from the stage, while we who showed up later got the better seats, proving in my mind that I was *supposed* to be there. There was a clear air of excitement in the gym, we in Kansas don’t get to do this very often. The people were as varied as you can imagine, old and young and black and white, some in work clothes and some in suits. There was music playing on the PA system, and we watched the media get set up:
A gentleman named Schmuck came out and gave up a little pep talk, and a local woman followed him. We cheered for both of these people. Then we cheered for the guy who came out and put the teleprompter at the right height. We cheered for everybody who crossed the stage. Finally, there’s some excitement at the very front of the room, and people start standing up, and I have to stand up (and get on my toes) as well, and we all cheer, because the man is here!We get a pretty standard stump speech, preceded with a telling of his ties to El Dorado (his grandparents are from here), and an introduction of the distant relatives and friends in the crowd. The stump speech, tho, is impressive because the man can really deliver a speech. He knows how to move the crowd, and elicit a response from us, and we loved it. The gentleman sitting next to me on my left told me the last time he’d been to political rally was RFK, and a day later RFK was shot. He was concerned that the same might happen here, and I smiled at him and told him it probably wasn’t his fault. He laughed. There was a real overall sense of goodwill and togetherness in the crowd, it’s great but unfamiliar. I liked it.
The speech begins to wind to a close, and Senator Obama tells us he wants to introduce one more friend, Governor Kathleen Sebelius, and again the crowd goes bananas. Our governor is beloved by most of us here, and is a beacon of progressive thought in a pretty conservative (some would say backward) state. She gave the Democratic rebuttal to the State of the Union just the day before this appearance, becoming a face of the party. She gives her official endorsement, and they do a lot of hand-holding, waving in unison, and we all start to think “hmm...”. Could this be a sign of a potential running mate? I don’t want to say anything yet, because I don’t know anything.The show is basically over, at this point, and the handshakes and photo ops begin. You feel better about politics leaving this place, you feel (despite yourself) hopeful. What a grand thing that is. You think that change, positive change is really possible, and within reach.
So today’s the caucus. I’m going, rain or shine, and standing in line, and cajoling my friends to do the same. :)
Woo!
posted by ginonymous at
5:57 PM
3 Comments
