Sunday, October 19, 2008

Saturday Night in Toledo, OH

John Denver fans among my readers--if there are any--might recognize the title of this entry and wonder whether I'm about to make some clever joke about letting sleeping dogs lie, or spending a week there one day, or whatever the other lyrics of the song are, so I'll just tell you up front: nope. I'm talking about a real Saturday night, in real Toledo, OH. No cleverness here. Just change. And hope.

I'm not quite sure how it happened either, but I ended up in Ohio last weekend, tracting for Obama, walking door to door in lower middle-class neighborhoods saying, "Hi! I'm a volunteer for the Obama campaign! May I ask if you're likely to vote in this year's election? I met all sorts of people, from a transvestite Obama supporter to a McCain supporter with a very large, and very fierce, dog, who managed to get its teeth on my arm just before its owner pulled it off. I got all sorts of answers, ranging from "Sorry, but my right to vote was revoked with my prison term" to "All that is disgusting! Get the hell off my porch!" I thought about referring that last person, a crochety old lady, to the missionaries--lady, I'm a Mormon, trust me, there are much more annoying reasons for me to be on your porch--but then refrained. What does it say about me that referring the missionaries is a form of vengeance?

The most interesting part about the weekend--well, besides seeing this glimpse of old industrial America, and besides getting to peek into every house on the block, and besides examining the inner workings of an Obama field office (hope! change! life-size cutouts of The Man himself!)--was the different reactions my dad and I got at our respective doors. He's 50ish, graying, and (comparatively) well-dressed, a Harvard economics professor who supports Obama partially as repentance for voting for Bush in 2000: when he shows up at your door with brochures, you listen. I'm 24 and look younger, dressed in jeans and Chacos, and fresh from California: when I show up at your door, you grumble about these darn kids and their Obamania. Or, in some cases, you spill your life story: the guy who was jumped in an alleyway, spent four months in a coma, and now can't hold a job because he still gets dizzy spells; the old black guy, a Greyhound employee for 27 years, who was told, after his five back surgeries and kidney surgery, that he wasn't eligible for Medicare; the woman who had just lost her job of 13 years the day before. What is to be done?

The best story, though, and the one that still makes me smile, took place in a mostly-white lower middle class neighborhood. Dad had just given an Obama sign to a guy whose 13 year old son was a big Obama supporter. A few minutes later, his neighbor, wearing torn jeans and a ratty T-shirt, with a broken-down truck on his front lawn, stuck his head out of his door and stared at the sign.

"Yo, Bill!" he shouted. "Do you really want a black guy to be president?"

The fellow with the sign was repairing his roof. He looked up. "Yup."

There was a long pause. Looooong.

"Me too," said the redneck. So we gave him a sign, placing it next to the truck.

I'll just finish by echoing him: me too.

8 comments:

The Dancing Newt said...

Nice. I love your family's forms of vengeance/penitence.

Anyway what language are we using now?

ReaRiahRoa said...

Me three!

Oh, and I finally decided on a related Halloween costume ...

Pregnant President Palin!

I'm not Tina Fey, but I'll try.

Th. said...

.

I can't imagine being this excited about any political candidate I've ever seen.

Petra said...

DN--

Vietnamese. I don't understand it either.

RRR--

I like it!

th.--

Does "this excited" refer to canvassing, canvassing in a state all the way across the country, or blogging about canvassing in a state all the way across the country?

mysh said...

th.: You may as well jump on the O-band-wagon, for as it has been foretold, those who do not choose to be humble before him will be compelled to be humble; every knee will bow to and every tongue will confess the lord god Obama. So let it be written ...

Ginsberg said...

I used to go tracting for Jesus and I take issue with the "much more annoying reasons to be on [someone's] porch." Annoyance is in the eye of the beholder--or the mind of the beholder, rather. Plus, as Mysh so eloquently reminded us, at this point, aren't Jesus and Obama about the same thing? . . . (A joke! It's a joke!)

Petra said...

Yeah, yeah, of the the beholder and all that, but, as for me and my eye, I'd rather have political campaigners on my doorstep than Jehovah's Witnesses. Just saying.

Th. said...

.

Not me. At least I can understand their passion.

(Although they're generally harder to get rid of.....)