Capitol musings from the people who brought you the Newsbreaker Lunch.
A Horse Is a Horse
31 January 2004
Sen. Wayne Allard, R-Colorado, is talking to David Kay right now on C-Span. He's asking about the WMD and just questioned Kay about when Saddam could have built "Iraq's first nookyular weapon"--yes, nookyular. Now, I know I'm an English major putz, but come on, Sen. Allard seems like a bright guy. He's educated, he's articulate, certainly he knows he's saying it wrong, doesn't he? But wait, there, he just did it again. Could he possibly be making the same mistake President Bush makes every time he talks about Iraq's 'nookyular' capabilities, the mistake that's been pointed out over and over...
And then, in a flash, it hits me. Like Dorothy seeing behind the curtain, or Frodo peering into that puddle of water, I see the truth: he's doing it on purpose. Sen. Allard isn't oblivious at all; this is just part of the plan. The Republicans have gotten together and vowed to mispronounce the word 'nuclear' every time they say it. Before long, they'll make the President's consistent mispronunciation mainstream and he won't look like such a goon every time he says it. I'm pretty much convinced. There was probably a memo. Man, these politicians are crafty.
Now Susan Collins is speaking. I once compared her to Dan Akroyd's deformed character Judge Valkenheiser in the movie "Nothing but Trouble." I made this analogy for two reasons: 1. At the time, I was working for her opponent in the senate race, and 2. I really do think they have the same nose. See for yourself. I'm sure she has a great personality, though.
That Brooks piece is a riot. How was the retreat?
Jeremy, I have to agree with most everything you wrote about the South - and I wish I could have said it as eloquently. But here's my opinion:
Historically, the South was a Democratic stronghold. Now, those Democrats did have a generally different view of the world and different values than today's Democrats do. After all, Strom Thurmond originally ran as a Democrat, and Abe Lincoln was a Republican. But John Edwards and Bill Clinton and Jimmy Carter (I don't count Gore, since he grew up here in DC - which is kind of a hybrid North-South city) are Democrats as I understand the Democratic platform. And I'm quite positive there are others in the South (many, I'd guess) whose values seem to me more like Republican values but who would vote for a Democrat or a Republican, depending on who appealed to them more. That's exactly what people mean when they call themselves "independents." They aren't necessarily independent thinkers; their vote is just up for grabs. So a Democrat who can go down to the South and move voters - be it through rhetoric or action - has a great shot at winning over those voters.
We tend to think that only a Southerner is really going to be able to win over the South, but that's not true. The people who can win over voters - Southern or otherwise - are leaders (by persona, not just by having been elected) who voters can relate to. Why do we think only Southerners will be able to do that? If George W can win over Northerners, why do we find it so hard to believe John Kerry could - if he had all the persuasion skills in the world - win over Southerners?
An interesting question.
Also, did everyone see the David Brooks column in today's NYT? It's a very good pair with an article in The Atlantic Monthly that focuses not on electability but on rhetoric and marketing.
I want to get this out there. Lisa DePaulo has put together a great profile of Joe Trippi for the new GQ. I think it reads a little hurriedly, but it's a powerful portrait and definitely worth reading, particularly if you're someone who has ever been curious about the Man behind the Medicine.
28 January 2004
When It All Goes South
I try to avoid predictions. Still, it certainly seems like John Kerry’s looking at a street full of green lights leading to the nomination. As Howard Dean recognized last night, the Iowa bounce is real, and with it Kerry finds himself in the enviable position of having landed two solid firsts. If this was a summer camp sailing regatta, Kerry would have a point and a half to Dean’s 5 and Edwards’ 6, putting him practically out of reach. Short of capsizing in the next few heats, Kerry would almost definitely be going home with hardware. But, as I have to keep reminding myself, don’t let all the hot air fool you. This isn’t summer camp.
Starting today, every campaign is pouring its war chest into television ads in the February 3rd states: South Carolina, New Mexico, Arizona, Missouri, Delaware, North Dakota and Oklahoma. With the exception of Delaware and North Dakota, which together boast a whopping 44 delegates, all of these states are either squarely in the south or are Missouri, which is close enough. A different wind will be blowing down there, and as it must, the course will change. John Kerry could be in worse shape than many people expect. And with good reason.
Last week Kerry responded to a question about the importance of winning in the south this way: “Everybody always makes the mistake of looking south. Al Gore proved he could have been president of the United States without winning one Southern state, including his own.” Is Kerry right about Gore? Yes. Was it smart for him to point it out? Hell no. With those two sentences, Kerry effectively surrendered any flawless track record as a “unifier” he may have hoped to build. Like monsters under the bed, a Democrat’s fears about his inability to do well in the south only exist when he believes in them. Kerry does.
But why should he? When did the south become Sodom to the Democrats’ Lot? In 1960, John F. Kennedy did better in Georgia than he did in Massachusetts, which is remarkable not only because Massachusetts is a liberal state but because he was from there. Since then, there have been four races—1972, 1984, 1988 and 2000—when the Democratic candidate for president failed to carry a single southern state. In ‘68 and ‘80, they only carried one.
I can hear my Democrat friends now: “What’s wrong with the south?” I can hear my Republican friend (Nick) now: “No, what’s wrong with the Democrats?”
To my Democrat friends, I really do hear you loud and clear. It’s crazy that confederate pride is still a factor, that to a large extent appealing to southern voters means appealing to values which to me aren’t very, well, appealing. On this one, though, I’m going to have to go with Nick. And here’s why:
If you were to break off the 15 southeastern states, they would have the third-largest economy in the world. Georgia alone already ranks 17th. Add to this the fact that two-thirds of the nation’s fastest-growing counties are located in the south, not to mention the MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF AMERICANS WHO LIVE THERE, and the folly of Kerry’s remark becomes clear. Despite a tainted legacy, the south is an undeniably vital and indispensable part of America. You can’t just brush it aside.
So, what’s the alternative? We all remember Howard Dean’s utterly graceless confederate flag debacle at the Rock the Vote debate. He deserves some credit, of course—what he meant was that he’s “not going to concede any part of America to the Republicans,” as he’s made clear since—but it didn’t come out that way. He ended up looking like a yuppie at a Skynyrd concert, dancing awkwardly to “Sweet Home Alabama” in his metrosexual suit, snazzy butane lighter held high during “Free Bird.” It hurt to watch.
It just seems like nobody can get it right. The issue of the south has become a Democratic hot potato, and everybody’s dropping it. It is for this reason that many people look to John Edwards and Wesley Clark as ideal vice-presidential material, hopeful that placing a Southerner on the ticket will make up for the fact that, as Zell Miller aptly puts it, a Democrat talking about the south is “as nervous as a long-tailed cat around a rocking chair.” There seems to be little hope that a Northerner could win those votes alone, but that strikes me as unfair—both to the party, which now has to pick its candidates based not just on where they stand but where they were born; and to the south, which is undoubtedly capable of rising above its stereotype.
Yes, John Kerry could win the White House without the south. He just shouldn’t want to. It shouldn’t be a “mistake” to look south. It shouldn’t be a mistake to look toward any region in America for support, or hope, or votes.
Whoever wins, after January 21st a third of his constituency will live in former slave-holding states. That’s just the way it is. Maybe, then, instead of dismissing them (or looking like a lunkhead trying to recruit them), a Democratic candidate should make an effort to become familiar with southern culture. Maybe he should try to understand the issues that are important to southern voters, even if they’re based on values that are different from his own. Who knows? If he does that, maybe the south will take the time to understand him better, too.
Check out the links on the right. It took me about an hour to figure out the right code for that. Let me know if you want to add any links, for I am now the golden god of web publishing.
An email from my friend Sam that made me laugh out loud:
"I think I might like to see John Kerry and Howard Dean have a swordfight where Dennis Kucinich and Joe Lieberman are the swords. I'd also like to see what kind of fashion response Al Sharpton might get among black voters if he wore Dennis Kucinich as a backpack."
27 January 2004
Three things I'm loving about America right now: this, this and this.
That last one may befuddle you but I never thought he was worth $25 million a year to begin with.
26 January 2004
Just reading Bill Safire. Do you think he is right that Kerry and Edwards are so far to the Left that they are attracting the typical Leftist populist Democrat? Seems to me that Edwards is much more of a New Democrat than an old fashioned populist. Which makes a Kerry (New England haughty Dem)-Edwards (Southern charmer a la Bill Clinton) partnership so interesting.
Still, if Bill Safire thinks it, others do too.
I think you missed Hart's affair in your laundry list of incidents.
But I seriously don't understand the whole brouhaha about the speech. Did Dean sound like an idiot? Yes. Has he sounded like an idiot before? Yes. Does our current president sound like an idiot each and everyday? Yes. Does that usually change the mind of the voting public? No. Is the voting public pretty idiotic to begin with? Well, I have an unfair disdain for the voting public.
I digress.
It remains to be seen whether Dean's "YEEEEAAAHHH" was his faltering moment. It could be. But then again, he could have faltered either way.
24 January 2004
22 January 2004
Spending the last few months in Washington has taught me some truths about politics, one of which is this:
In every once-great campaign that goes sour, there is a distinct moment when things went wrong. Very rarely does this media let anyone simply fade from prominence, and in retrospect you can almost always trace a downward spiral to a single incident, an instance that you know, if he could, the candidate would take back.
For Muskie, it was the tears.
For Gore, the kiss.
I for one am waiting for tonight's debate to know for sure if that moment has come for Howard Dean. Whether or not his reformation is enough to bring his voters back to the fold, though, one thing is certain: he can't take it back.
21 January 2004
From "China's Internet Democrats", Wall Street Journal, 1 Dec 2003:
"The recent arrests and trials are one part of a major effort by Beijing to control the Internet more ruthlessly. The Public Security Bureau has deployed sophisticated technology supplied by companies like Nortel and Cisco that can pry into packets of information as they whiz through the ether. It is also using spyware to monitor individual users' activities. The cyber police have hired tens of thousands of their own censors, as well as coercing commercial Web sites into censoring themselves."
And the thought that occurred to me was this: why is this not a problem for the proponents of international democracy?
Last night, President Bush proposed doubling the budget of the National Endowment for Democracy. Neocons love the idea of bringing the free system of elections to the world; they also don't mind trading with countries that have an extensive human rights violations rap sheet. Isn't this a major contradiction?
I appreciate and accept the reasons for trading with China--that isolationism would backfire, that capitalism will "tame" them, and that in the meantime we can all get a little rich off their massive production power. In essence, though, we're effectively discouraging human rights and democracy in China by selling this technology to Beijing. Nortel is a Canadian company, Cisco is out of California, and their software is what allows the Chinese government to track dissidents and intercept emails, to spy on its citizens, to censor them, arrest them, interrogate them. Many of these political prisoners are tortured and killed.
I have less of a problem exporting cheeseburgers and--what else do we produce?--pop music to China. If they're going to suck at democracy, fine, maybe after enough episodes of MTV Cribs they'll chill out a little bit. I just don't want us to be inadvertently helping them suck at it. While we're shipping them spyware, their textbooks are fueling anti-foreign, anti-US sentiments and their news outlets are entirely government-controlled. I'm not an anti-globalist, but if it was wrong to sell Saddam Hussein the chemicals he used to oppress his people in the 70s, doesn't it stand to reason that it's wrong to sell China the Information Age's equivalent tools of oppression? Isn't this akin to selling them weapons, on a certain level? If we want to encourage democratic values, why are aiding the smothering of dissent? Who says we can't limit our exports and still have an open trading relationship? And what makes us so sure this isn't going to come back and bite us in the patoot?
Really, I hope I'm wrong. Let's see where we are in thirty years.
15 January 2004
DMB, Meet Dean, M.D.: Diary of a True Fan
I have a confession to make: I used to be into Dave Matthews. Back in the days of the Dave Matthews Band, long before the solo albums and MTV music videos, I was actually a pretty huge fan. I loved that I could catch a show in an intimate venue, that I could sit up close and watch his fingers span the long chords of songs like "Jimi Thing" and "#41." His lyrics were euphonious, however nonsensical, and the other people at the shows—there were only a few of us back then—well, they were kindred spirits. It's almost funny to think of it now, so much has changed.
I have another confession to make: I used to be into Howard Dean. Back in the days when he was governor of Vermont, long before the meetups and attack ads, I was actually a pretty huge fan. I loved that I could hear him speak in an intimate venue, that I could sit up close and watch him articulate the anger and frustration I was feeling toward our administration. His words were powerful, however vituperative, and the other people listening—there were only a few of us back then—well, they were kindred spirits. It's almost funny to think of it now, so much has changed.
The other day I was talking to an old high school friend who's up in Burlington working for the Dean campaign. I was trying to explain to him my recent disaffection in that regard. Suddenly, about halfway through the conversation, I realized I was using exactly the same language I use to describe my feelings toward Dave Matthews. It struck me that the theme was remarkably similar—loved his old stuff, but I can't shake the feeling that he's sold out recently. And the more I thought about it, the more the parallels became clear.
First, there's fame. More than just about anything, I love the feeling of witnessing talent early on. It feels like I'm taking part in history. To be in a tiny theater listening to a band I just know is going to blow up has got to be one of the most exciting experiences out there—because they haven't blown up yet, because they're raw, they're real, and for now, on some level, they're mine. Maybe this makes me an unforgivable purist, some sort of outrageous aesthete—it certainly looks selfish in writing—but that's just how it is. I felt it when I started listening to Dave Matthews, and I felt it when I first heard a fiery doctor rail against President Bush.
Inevitably, though, the intimacy vanishes. Talent gets discovered, smothered, and hyped. More people can benefit from the music and the message, after all, when it's delivered in a bigger room. I know it's for the best; I'm not that selfish. But I also know that something tends to happen with the jump to stardom, that the music—the message—tends to change in subtle ways, to begin to fit more seamlessly into the fabric of popular culture. Things get cleaned up and truncated in an endless process of spin, sound bite, repeat; every song is whittled down to 3 minutes; candidates restate their catch-phrases so often that the words begin to sound shellacked. It's ineluctable, maybe, just what happens to anything pushed into the flow of the main stream. But I can't help thinking that something irretrievable is lost in the process.
With fame come fans, and that’s another point of contention for me. The small cluster of ‘kindred spirits’ of the good old days suddenly becomes a gaggle of wild fanatics. They cram the stands of Foxboro Stadium and pound beers in their Abercrombie & Fitch lacrosse shirts. They flock to meetups and house parties and blog incessantly about taking our country back. It isn’t long before they start to bug me. They sing the wrong words to “Ants Marching.” They sneak into the Kerry offices posing as Iowa voters. I want to shake them: Do you realize how ridiculous you’re being? Are you even listening to the debate? Does Abercrombie even have a lacrosse team?
Where were you in the beginning?
With Dave, the definitive transformation came for me when he decided to ditch the sweet acoustic songs he had recorded with Steve Lillywhite and instead put out a crisp, punchy album of plugged-in electric radio songs called Everyday. The album was okay, a little conventional maybe, certainly a logical step on the path he’d taken with Before These Crowded Streets. But what killed me was that the Lillywhite Sessions were gold, real, authentic tunes that spoke to what the band was, how it had grown. I couldn’t believe he shelved them. The songs came out later, remastered of course, as an album called Busted Stuff, but it was too late; the damage was done.
My grandparents came home in the summer of 2002 and said they’d just heard the governor of Vermont speak, that he was going to run for president, and that he was going to win. I started reading about him; a doctor and a governor? Taking on the White House? Legalized civil unions? It was almost too good to be true. At that point, very few people had heard of Howard Dean, and I didn’t miss a chance to talk him up. I met a girl who was going to work for John Kerry and I told her it was a lost cause. Howard Dean was going to clean his clock. She looked at me incredulously. “Who?”
From the looks of it, I was right, although to a certain extent it pains me to say it. Howard Dean has become the frontrunner, a target for heavy fire from all directions, and I guess that’s forced his hand a little bit. He’s had to adjust. Last week, he told a reporter he’d be happy to talk about his tax policy, then after catching a look from an advisor added sarcastically, "I’m not allowed to say I’m happy to do anything anymore." He complained to the DNC about the assaults he’d been suffering, although now he’s launched an attack-ad armada of his own. It’s what you have to do to win, his campaign insists. It’s how you play the game.
They’re right, of course. He won’t be a pincushion, as he says. But there’s something else he won’t be, and that’s fresh, new, free to speak his mind, to bring radical thoughts to the table. He will never again be an energized rising star with a gilded passionate message, just absolutely busting at the seams to be heard so he can ignite the American imagination. To some degree, it’s because he’s done it. I’m sure the kids posing as Iowa voters were uplifted, in a way. But the mainstreaming of the message has diffused it, abbreviated it into bite-size portions, and now, like it or not, he’s another shark in the muddy water.
Let me make something clear: I have no doubt that Howard Dean would make a fine president. I don’t mean to knock him, not really. But I am letting him go. It’s just not fun to watch him anymore. I’m not closing the door entirely; I saw Dave Matthews did a special with Emmylou Harris on CMT that looks pretty chill, so who knows? I’m not doubting his chances, either—I knew he could do it, that’s why I was so excited at the start. I’ve been in his corner all along. I’m just going to fade out a little bit. He doesn’t need me there anyway; he’s got Al Gore and Martin Sheen and most of my generation backing him up now. I’d just be in the way.
And so the campaign rages ahead, and the hits keep right on coming. I’m sure it’s going to be an amazing fight, however it works out. It seems like everyone’s trucking up to Iowa and New Hampshire these days to get involved in the action. It really sounds exciting, too, working on the trail, living the campaign life, but if it’s all the same I think I’ll sit this one out. If you need me, I’ll be in the town hall meetings, the dive bars with live music, on the lookout for the next big thing. I know it doesn’t sound very glamorous, but, believe me, that’s where the action is.
13 January 2004
I love that Edwards got the Register endorsement. He is a strong candidate with limited policy experience, but he's a populist, he's a middle-class warrior and he's, frankly, adorable. I get goosebumps every time he talks about how his dad worked in a "cotton meeeell."
Actually, no, I want to bang my head against the wall. But the endorsement does spice it up, I've heard tell that it ganks votes from Gephardt (this is fascinating, especially the end) but you know I think some of those votes have to come from Dean, too, and I can't see how a strong fourth-placer could help him in Iowa. I also read that Dean has added Edwards to his stump speech (as in, "Don't vote for Edwards") which is undoubtedly considered a huge win by the Edwards camp. Which I think is funny. You know you've 'made it' when Dean starts attacking you? I guess it gives him credibility, but really shouldn't he be, I don't know, offended?
Politics, man. Strange brew.
[LATE UPDATE: In the thick of all the fire Wesley Clark's been catching since he starting rising in NH, Chris Lehane was quoted as saying that "attack is the sincerest form of flattery" in politics. So, so well put.]
12 January 2004
I completely agree on the Dave Matthews analogy, but I still wonder if he isn't the right one to go up against Bush. You have to give the guy a break - at least a little one - for his behavior of late. After all, he is trying to win over a country full of morons. And if the people he already WON over are a bunch of smart kids from Vermont, you have to give them the benefit of the doubt. These days he's trying to win over the midwest.
Now, two of us on here are from the midwest (although I do not think Chicago is the midwest, but I digress), so I can't criticize too much, but let's just say the bulk of voters in the midwest do not care about all of Dean's Bartlet-esque high-falutin blowhardedness. They just want him to say he loves the worker, unions rock (Cleveland rocks), he reads his Bible, you know - the stuff Gephardt dreams are made of. So let's wait a minute until the Caucuses are over, and he's back in his comfort zone, and then see what he says.
On the other hand, why did the Des Moines register endorse Edwards?!?!?
And on my third hand (I am a magician), did you see the cases SCOTUS took for the session? Interesting article in the LA Times.
So, for the first time since my computer broke, Gateway called ME. Which is a huge personal victory. When I answered the phone I was so pleased I almost forgot to be mad at them for having lost it in the first place. What a pain in the neck. I literally heard not a thing from them for a month, then it turns out they shipped it to the wrong place and now they're not sure where that place is. So I get a new one, and daggummit it better be sweet.
I talked to my friend working for Dean up in Burlington the other day and let him know about the footsteps. He agrees with my Dave Matthews analogy and calls the kids up there "Dean Nazis." I actually realized how apt the DMB analogy is today when I found myself writing, "You know, I really liked him at first, I mean I love his old stuff, but lately I can't shake the feeling that he's sold out." What Would You Say, Howard (if you a monkey on a string)?
09 January 2004
This morning the Dean campaign was forced to fire two low-level volunteers who entered the Kerry campaign offices posing as Iowa voters. This is, of course, absurd; add to it the claims being made about Dean for America calling in out-of-staters to caucus (an allegation the campaign calls "total crap") and it starts to become clear just how dirty the corn fields can get. ...Or, are getting: Josh Micah Marshall picks up yet another juicy charge, and puts it in context.
I'm starting to feel about Dean the way I feel about Dave Matthews: love the music, but, seriously, the fans suck.
08 January 2004
I just emailed this out to a slew of dudes but wanted to preserve it, blog-style.
Subj: why I'm done with Dean
I've been a little down on the Good Doctor for a while now, I have to admit it. He's gotten a little vigilante for my blood, a little Volvo-centric. I wasn't ready to quit his camp quite yet, though, until I saw the campaign email from him that was waiting in my inbox this morning.
I know it's somewhat ridiculous, but I can't help thinking it's important...kind of in the vein of the Eats, Shoots and Leaves article.
>Date: Thu, 08 Jan 2004 00:15:15 -0500
>From: "Gov. Howard Dean, M.D."
>To: [Slim]
>Subject: Who I Speak For - Spread the Word
Okay, first of all it's "For Whom I Speak." Come on, Yale. This is the subject of your message for crying out loud, it's the only thing most people even read. I almost deleted it right there on principle.
>Dear [Slim],
>The Americans I have met love their country. They believe deeply in its
>promise, our values and our principles. But they know something is wrong
>and they want to take action - they want to do something to right our
>path. But they feel Washington isn't listening - that as individuals,
>they lack the power to change the course those in Washington have put us
>on.
The course they've put us on? Your preposition is dangling, Howard. Once again I invoke the words of Winston Churchill, who bravely asserted that, "To end a sentence in a preposition is something up with which I will not put."
>On January 19th, the people of Iowa will begin the 2004 election. On my
>first trip to Iowa over a year and a half ago I heard people doubting
>the words of our leaders in Washington. Today, more and more Americans
>are asking fundamental questions: Is the media reporting the truth?
>What is happening to our country? Who can we trust?
WHOM! WHOM CAN WE TRUST! On issues of grammar, certainly not you.
>Our leaders have developed a vocabulary which has become meaningless
>to the American people.
...and a grammar which has become offensive.
The rest of the email is better, a little trite maybe but harmless. Alright, I guess I'm not abandoning him entirely over this really, I was just agitated. After all, I don't even want to imagine what an email from President Bush would look like. Ugh.
It's just that (tirade to follow), in an age where everything from the economy to the peace depends on the precision of language, grammar matters. It occurs to me that perhaps grammar has actually never mattered more than it does now. In the jungle of treaties and trade agreements, the comma is king. How we construct our societies increasingly depends on how we construct the sentences that form the laws that guide our actions--and those actions don't speak louder than words anymore; they ARE words. I have little doubt that Howard Dean would be an excellent president, that he'd clean up the skies and the schools and maybe even Iraq. But his callousness with words unsettles me, speaking sometimes wildly off-the-cuff, and I think his callousness with grammar is representative. Why not take the time to get it right? Why not run a spellcheck? Why shoot from the hip when you have the time to take aim? You're running for the highest office in the land--why not make the effort?
Okay, that's enough out of me. The contest is still raging and fun to watch. And as you can see, my new job is keeping me very busy. I hope everyone's doing well, that you're all hale and happy, and that I didn't misspell anything in this email. Have a good day,
[Slim]
02 January 2004
Haha that's great. Here are some of my favorites:
jeremy is gross okay
jeremy is happy to be in billings and enjoys the great outdoors
jeremy is covered in goo for most of the movie
jeremy is quite possibly the most famous porn star ever
jeremy is our vintage scooter lead technician
jeremy is finally a member of our bass section
jeremy is a 2 year old male neuter collie/golden retreiver cross
jeremy is dumfounded
jeremy is still putting on a brave face even though the situation is bad
jeremy is stout
jeremy is following bobby back to the starting line after completing the 100m
jeremy is contagious
jeremy is a true underground artist
jeremy is krakt
jeremy is bound to appear
jeremy is an old story shared originally between mother and daughter
jeremy is one of our most accomplished riders
jeremy is not jeremy's real name
jeremy is a handmade english bunny with honesty sewn into his very being
jeremy is enjoying all the football goodness
jeremy is still involved with the family
jeremy is stuggling with his reading
jeremy is in the hizzouse
Hells yeah. So there you are--maybe you didn't rock the "Publish" button but only "Post." Me, I'm all up in DC's grill once again and feeling groovier than the 59th Street Bridge Song. Starting work at Shanker on Monday, kvetching to the gangstarrs over in Gateway Country (which is apparently a nation just south of Competency) who have managed to lose my computer for nearly a month, and just generally living the life. I got the Johnny Cash Unearthed 5-CD album for Christmas (Dad's not a Jew) so I'm happier than a fly in a sugar bowl. NYC was crazy on New Years, Maine was of course idyllic, but it's good to be back.
You know, going home really reinforces the differences between DC and everywhere else. When I drove out of the city a few weeks ago I had a weird sensation: as I crossed out of the Beltway I actually felt a physical weight lift off me. I'm completely serious. At first I wasn't sure what it was, but as I drove through rural Maryland and passed the farms and small towns, I figured it out. It was the weight of political awareness.
Down here, I read the Note every day, watch the news over breakfast, read the paper, talk to people about politics, watch debates. I literally know what Howard Dean is having for lunch about an hour before he does. And it's not just me; everyone, no matter what their persuasion or occupation, is just substantially more aware of the political process around here. But then, crossing over 495, man, suddenly it dawned on me how little most of these details matter to much of the country.
I was glad to get back to Maine, where the most important political issue was the new traffic light on Shore Road. I slept soundly and ate heartily, and as the days gradually passed, so did my urge to check and see if Josh Micah Marshall had posted anything new on talkingpointsmemo.com. I did a little reveling in oblivion, I guess. Played some poker, drank some beers. It was great.
And yet, as cynical as I can sometimes get about DC's obsession with politics, I was excited to get back. In truth, knowing which dope-smoking, frisbee-chucking celebrity is hosting the latest Kucinich fundraiser might not really matter in the Grand Scheme of Things. The details do get a tad ridiculous. But the process is actually important, the decisions these people make and the laws they pass affect everyone, not just in DC but in the country, and not just in the country but around the world. In this (...wait for it...) global age, politics plays a more important role than ever before. So what's wrong with getting a little obsessed? I say, on the verge of plunging back into it, nothing. Just so long as everyone gets outside the Beltway now and again, preferably to somewhere that's freaking out about a traffic light.
So that's my rhyme. Grand Pooba, let me know where I should head for happy hour on Thursday and I'll alert the troops. I hope you guys had good holidays and that Marta didn't get attacked by any crocodiles.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to some CNN.com/politics articles to scour.
