Back in Portland

Well, I haven't updated ya'll in a little while, and I totally wanted to but I just had no time and no energy before the election was over. I have returned triumphantly to Portlandistan I find myself with some respite, and I'd love to fill ya'll in on my jamb.

Here are a few vignettes to fill you in on where I've been at:

Aristocrat Ranchette: Your dream place!

Aristocrat Ranchette was a development that Kevin and I canvassed in the middle of Northeast Colorado. It is all dirt roads with many run down trailers/homes. The definition of trailer trash. I knocked on one door, only to look at the awning and see it filled with wasp nests! Yikes!

Aristocrat Ranchette, also known as Aristoshits, was filled with many animals. HELLA dogs, including a few huskies that would fight randomly/follow me and Kevin around in the streets, all sketchy like. We got chased out of more than a few yards. This, however, was just the beginning of the wild petting adventure that was ready to ensue. On the long walks between houses we were greeted with chickens, horses, cows, a few geese, and peacocks! Maybe this is what happened to Animal Farm after George Orwell stopped writing about it.

Finally, the wierdest thing about this place is that a good 80% of the neighborhood was Obama supporters! So, I guess that makes these people fake americans too.

Meeting Joe Biden

Joe Biden was speaking in Colorado, and Kevin and I got sent to help schlep his luggage when his plane landed. When we showed up, however, I realized that this was an airport, where it is someone's job to schlep luggage. Thus, there was nothing left for me and Kevin to do but be the guys who shook Joe Biden's hand as he got off the plane. Joe is a real close talker, a real charmer, and he spoke with me, Kevin, and Guard Dog for about 10 minutes, no joke! Pretty much awesometown, if you ask me.

GOTV

GOTV means Get Out To Vote, and it is used to describe the last 96 hours of an election. Basically, we bust our ass doubletime during this period because after the 4th it was over. To my disbelief, this meant that we would work harder. 16 hour days became 20 hour days, 20 hour days became 22 hour days, 22 hour days turn into literal all nighters. In the last 4 days Kevin and I collectively had 15 hours of sleep.

Basically, during GOTV we just pump up our voter outreach and make sure we reach everyone. Kevin and I were put in charge of a town called Fort Lupton, and our job was to make sure every person on our list for the area was talked to by a representative of the campaign at least once before the 4th. This list, of roughly 1,000 people, was collected from months of research: by the last four days we knew exactly who had voted early and who hadn't, who was supporting Obama, and who was likely to support Obama. With this info we built incredibly specific lists of voters, and sent our volunteers out to get in touch with them.

Election day itself was the above work ethic multiplied by a billion. The plan was to go through each neighborhood at least twice if not three times. The tightest part was that we were getting updated data from the secretary of state every few hours about who had and hadn't voted. This meant that as the day wore on, our list got smaller. The idea is to be so specific that when people come home from work, there is an Obama volunteer sitting on their stoop ready to literally drag them to the polls.

Come 4 or 5, the rule is that everyone needs to split the office and hit the doors to make sure every last person goes out and votes. Needless to say, Kevin and I were exhausted to the point of delirium at this stage. However, this was also the last chance we had to change the election--if it was a close race, those last minute votes could count ( look at how close the Al Franken race is in Minnesota right now. )

So, dead tired, I grabbed a neighborhood with about 40 doors in it and started sprinting, literally sprinting, from door to door. "Is such and such home? Have you voted?" "Sorry ma'am, your son might not have voted, the secretary of state says here that they haven't." "You need to go the polls? Lets roll!"

I don't know where the energy came from, but it was a huge release, the total end of the campaign. I ran from house to house for 3 hours straight until 7 PM when polls closed, and I was all but keeled over when Kevin picked me up and we headed back to the main office.

The Big Bang


Kevin and I started hearing results the second we were done on Election day. Pennyslvania, then Ohio. We were giddy, excited, but we hadn't clinched it yet. I figured it would be many hours before we figured out what happened. Suddenly however, someone in the office said, very calmly


"Barack Obama's the president."


Silence. All heads turned, and saw a CNN website that pointed out how Obama had clinched the race as soon as the west coast polls closed. For a split second that lasted an eternity, we all stopped. For me the whole month of campaigning passed between synapses firing in my brain. For others it was two whole years in that space between recognizing and acknowledging and believing the ultimate.

And then it hit us. I can't put it into words; I can only say that I sprinted 10 blocks to the bar where the party was, covered my entire torso, face and glasses with Obama stickers, (pictures coming ASAP) and couldn't stop screaming "Barack Hussein Obama motherfuckers!" for about 4 days straight.

Cloud Ten

There is a cloud ten, and I now inhabit said place. Ever since the moment that I realized Obama was the prez, my whole world was flipped over. I am now in the souther hemisphere, ya dig? Everything is possible, and I've ( as well as all us other young fools) have many decades to create even more ultimate realities now.

I'm going back to San Francisco on the 18th, where I will get an awesome 4 day a week job and spend the rest of my time playing hella music and living in a balling co-op house.

Join the fucking party

-j bxtr smk