Back in New York City

I begin to feel the buzz....the energy, as the bus gets near exit 10 on the Jersey turnpike, on a night like tonight that has just enough cloud cover to reflect the light of the city. You can start to make out shapes and as the skyline, miniaturized by distance, reveals itself. Last few times, I haven't seen the city till exit 11 or 12. I remember when I was a kid and we'd drive back up, back home, and it was like it was tonight. And it was always anchored by those towers. I thought that briefly tonight. Every once in a while I miss them in a way that sort of creeps up on you. For me, it was a poignant end to a two day trip to Philly to help out with the Obama Campaign; two days that seemed far too short.

I hit the ground early Monday afternoon. As I got off the subway, at the Temple University campus, I realized I had about 20 blocks to walk, to get to the campaign headquarters I would be working out of. As the blocks went by and Temple got further and further behind me, the streets got more and more dilapidated. Cracked sidewalks and broken windows in buildings led to abandoned buildings and empty lots. Block after block of sidewalk so weathered, so damaged that it was un-walkable in places. You wonder to yourself, as you take a walk like that, how a city lets itself decay like that. It almost seems like work, as if a concerted effort has been made to let it decay.

So I got into the office, a former juke joint, with a main ballroom and a balcony that surrounded it which had diner style booth seating. The kitchen had all of the equipment, and seemed to be in working order. There was no heat. My friend Jeff, who had been there for weeks, got some paper work together and we hit the streets, knocking on doors, trying to make sure people knew where they were supposed to vote, asking if they could come down and help, asking if they needed help to get to the polls. A young black woman answered the first door we knocked on, and when we asked if she wanted a poster, she laughed and said she was a Republican. My heart sank. These micro panic attacks that accompany any dip in the polls, the constant agita during this election cycle, all flashed before my eyes. The Republicans have stolen the last two elections and this woman, a black woman is giving the house away!!! The next door knock went much better and we were up and running.

Nice people, fucked up people, Scared people; story after story, fear after fear of another stolen election. And two white guys from New York City walking through one of the most dangerous neighborhoods on the east coast. People asked if we were there to buy up their houses, until we pulled out our Obama paraphernalia. One man told us that they know that they're black when they go to vote so they throw their votes away. Another, under the impression that he couldn't vote if he showed up in an Obama shirt. There were stories of flyers that said that if they showed up at the polls with back parking tickets, or a warrant out, or back child support owed, they could be arrested. And who is responsible for this? The same people that brought you the Florida debacle in 2000, and the Ohio debacle in 2004. And as we walked, we met an old black woman, in her seventies, waiting for the bus to go the nine blocks because her legs "aren't as good as they used to be," to get to campaign headquarters, to help out with phone calls. We signed up 6 people, on that four hour walk through the ghetto. An amazing experience that I will never forget.

When we got back, we went across the street to the Chinese place, where you order through bulletproof glass. A thirty-something man and his niece came into the store to place an order and saw our campaign materials and said he rather vote for none of the above; that it was hopeless. We got our food and returned to the unheated quasi-campaign office.

As I ate what could only be described as intestine churning fried rice, I reflected on our day. Who benefits from these ghettos? Who benefits from the hopelessness, the disenfranchisement of these communities? Why do Democrats fight so hard to register people, and get them to the polls while Republicans try to stop people from voting? I remember in the early nineties, Democrats fighting for motor voter registration, and the Republicans fighting against it. Have you ever heard of Democrats mailing flyers to evangelicals saying Jesus says the election is on a different day, or sending conservative farmers flyers saying that if they vote rain won't come? No. Yet today, in Virginia, people have received flyers saying the election is Wednesday, people who are first time voters in poor neighborhoods. Why? Why do the people on the right push so hard to suppress the vote? Why have lawsuits and Investigations running trying to find people to throw off of the voter rolls?

Without getting into too deep of a history lesson, I'll mention now that Alberto Gonzalez, former Attorney General resigned, in disgrace, in part for firing federal attorneys who would not investigate unjustified cases of voter fraud. Briefly, Voter fraud, like in the ACORN scandal, is a red herring. Attempts to register made up people don't actually do anything because made up people have no Social Security numbers and dead people have SS numbers attributed to the deceased, ie: Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck and J Edgar Hoover Ain't showing up! Voter fraud is the new buzzword for what is essentially an old story. Voter supression, and fear mongering.

In the pouring rain, at 11 PM we drove to south Philly, and Jeff and I order two cheese steaks each from Pat's. We ate like pigs and slept like semi comatose flatulent cows but it was worth it. Those things are so good. It poured all day today so I spent most of the day making calls and setting up the printer and the computer network at the office. Nothing dramatic. Nothing life altering. Just good solid work. and with every phone call and every smiling face with a computer problem fixed, that agita felt a little better, even if Pat was wreaking his revenge on my internal plumbing. My fault on that one, not his of course. Gluttony is one of many excesses that come easy to this balding eagle.

I think I have grown colder in many ways in my old age. I just recently turned 34 and while that certainly isn't old, I have always been accused of having an old soul so it doesn't surprise me that I may wear my 34 like it's 84. My tolerance is shrinking, my tolerance for hypocrisy, stupidity, and apathy. Flag waving numbskulls who don't care enough to do what it is every Americans duty to do, inform themselves; who claim to love America but don't care enough to believe in the very Democracy that it stands for. People who hear unfounded accusations like "palling around with terrorists" or "he is a socialist" and believe it without a thought. Believe it because it's easy to believe what Bad people tell you to believe. Because it's easy to not think. And I'm not talking about the poor blacks in inner city Philadelphia who live with a crumbling education system thanks to the last eight years. I am talking about middle class people, Upper middle class people. People with access to good education, access to information. People who have given up on America unless it involves flag pins.

I have a dilemma to face soon. We get the government we deserve. We are surrounded by the inane and the apathetic who believe that loving their country means waving an American flag made in China and saying Never Forget. They don't actually care for Democracy or the people they share this country with. And although my thoughts and opinions are unpopular with these people, they are also unpopular with the dogmatic, PC left. Blind patriotism is dogma. Knee jerk political correctness is dogma too. Dogma is as poisonous to a democracy as an uninformed electorate. So how do I reconcile my passion for democracy with my disgust for the people throwing it out with the bathwater? How do I reconcile my passion for what is right with my love, for people in my life who are at best, mistaken, lazy thinkers and are at worst......evil.

I begin to feel the buzz as I see that skyline, when I realize I'm back home. And I feel the loss of those buildings that I used to see first. And then I think about how that loss, my loss, our national loss, has been stolen by those who would use them to destroy our democracy. Those that have absconded with our pain and used it to kill innocents, create wealth for military contractors, to even torture. "There is a place in hell for those people" said a woman I spoke to yesterday. There is no solace in that. I don't believe in hell. But there is solace for me in that elderly lady, giving four hours of her day, everyday, to make the dream of Democracy real again. I just hope it's enough solace to guide my heart to its better angels. I am back in New York City.