I took my dad out canvassing for Obama today. As a recovering Republican, it was his first time doing anything like this, and we had a great time. He told me afterwards that it made him feel less helpless at how horribly the Republicans handled the country, and are handling this campaign -- and how horrible a job the media is doing covering it.
In short, I highly recommend canvassing as an entertaining and spiritually fulfilling pastime, one that is constructive to boot.
A few choice gems told, below the fold.
I knew today was going to be a good time when the first guy I walked up to, who was replacing the alternator on his car with his son, wanted to talk about why McCain picked "that crazy lady from Canada" to be his running mate.
I smiled, and said, "Well, you know, she's from Alaska."
To which he says, also with a smile, "But what does some Canadian lady know about what we need in Ohio?" Then I got it, and said, "Yeah, why DID he pick that crazy Canadian lady?" and we all laughed.
Dad and I gave him a health care pamphlet (he's on disability) and an Obama/Biden pin and moved on.
Three doors down, a woman comes to the door, and says she's leaning McCain because of Palin. "I really like her," she admits. "I think she's a cool person."
I swallow my bile and agree with her. "Sure she is. And how do you feel about Senator Obama?"
"Oh, I like him too -- I think he's going to be the next President. He's very smart."
No disagreements there -- I make the point that we need a genius at the helm of the economy. I then steer the conversation around to issues, and start pointing out to her all the ways that McCain/Palin is dead wrong. For instance, animal rights -- she had a German Shepherd named Sam, and I asked her to imagine Sarah Palin hunting and killing Sam with an assault rifle from a helicopter. "She does that?" "You're damn right. Shoots wolves, wants to take the polar bear off the Endangered Species list so she can shoot them too."
I then pointed out (after sucking it up again) that she would probably get a chance to vote for Palin in 2012, so she might as well do the right thing and vote for Obama. She agreed -- took a button and some lit.
The next door is a small businesswoman who doesn't want to hear I'm from Obama's camp. "I'm a small businesswoman, and I don't want him to tax my ass off," she says.
"Is your business a proprietorship?" I ask. "Yes," she says. "Do you make less than $250,000?" She laughs. "Much less."
"Well, then -- under Obama's tax plan, you'll get a tax cut." She doesn't believe me, so I take her email address and make a note to send the WaPo tax comparison chart her way upon my return home.
I think it's safe to say that, here in the inner ring of Cleveland, we fall overwhelmingly into the sweet spot of the O'Bama tax plan.
A few minutes later, I'm crossing the street and get flagged down by a couple in a car who I've seen at the grocery store, who see my kelly green O'Bama shirt and want to find out how they can help. "Easy," I tell them, and button them up and get their email addresses for the post-canvass volunteer recruitment/coordination email session.
Final story. It was a beautiful day in NE Ohio today, blue skies and sunshine, nice breeze, mid-60s or so. My dad and I split up to cover both sides of a cul de sac, and I step up onto a porch to find an elderly, white haired and very frail-looking man in a wheelchair, sitting and enjoying the sunshine. I sit down with him and, after I go through my entire spiel, he says, "You don't have to convince me. I've already decided to vote for your guy. I'm happy to be out of the hospital so I can do it." He's voting absentee this year in his 15th Presidential election and he says he's never had the feeling that he's making history before. "This year is different," he says, and proudly pins my button to his shirt with shaking hands. "That Obama must have some Irish in him," he says, "because he talks so well!"
He calls his daughter out onto the porch and she stands with me for a moment, chatting about family history and how the neighborhood's changing.
After a moment, I give my goodbyes and head on down the street towards where my dad is laughing it up with a mother and her son in a driveway.
This campaign is doing more than just winning an election -- at it's base, it is re-constructing a community of interest at the neighborhood level. It's giving us the excuse to go break down barriers of anonymity between close neighbors.