Breast-Milk Addicts for Edwards
I took them, or rather her, along with me to hand out flyers this evening at Grand Central for the sake of the Plucky Underdog. It was my first piece of campaigning ever. Blanca slept comfortably, once I decided to propagandize inside, and didn't seem to pay much attention to the proceedings. (After all, if she did vote, only one issue would matter to her: a constant, ever-flowing supply of milk, interrupted by naps.) However, I found it all really enjoyable -- making up slogans on the spur of the moment, thrusting pieces of paper at unsuspecting passersby, and engaging in debates with the more curious. A sample:
'Me: Vote for the best candidate, John Edwards, on March 2nd!
Passerby (tall, businesslike type, with chiseled jaw and no-nonsense demeanor): Why is he the best candidate?
M: [Discourse on income inequality, Kerry's obfuscation, etc.]
P: What do you mean by income inequality?
M: [Description thereof.]
P: Is he a socialist?
M: [with barely suppressed guffaw] No.
Another possible response was: well, sir, I don't think you have anything to fear about socialist influence in today's Democratic Party . . .
While the Edwardsites were soldiering along at one GCT entrance, Team Kerry staked out the other. Here's what I noticed, based on a lifetime's lack of knowledge of political science and grassroots campaigning:
Kerry: lots o' brightly colored posters, suitable for wrapping round poles.
Edwards: posters, yes, but no pole-wrappers, and not quite as many.
Kerry: again, lots o' colors.
Edwards: Xeroxed handouts.
As I was about to leave, I met a fellow Caltech housemate who's now teaching political science at NYU. We cheerfully agreed that we were both going to vote for Edwards, though he's probably going to get clobbered. I hope, though, that the best candidate has more of a chance than the pundits credit him with. We are not Kerry's sheep.