Cold feet

Cold feet

So I had big plans today. See, this Tuesday it’s the presidential primary election in California, and because I am officially “decline to state” (meaning I am not a registered member of any political party) I get to vote for whichever candidate of whichever party I choose. Weird, but true — opens up all sorts of game-theoretic possibilities — pick the less objectionable candidate of the party you are afraid of (yeah I’ve done that before, didn’t work).

Good thing is that it seems to be a good crop this year… I like all three senators running, and I don’t know enough about the fourth candidate to be truly afraid of him (yet). And for the first time in, oh, say a lifetime, I actually feel sufficiently intrigued by the candidates in a national election to want to engage a bit more in the whole political thing.

So today was my chance. A friend of a friend was hosting an Obama party in Palo Alto, and we had tentative plans to go (mostly to indulge me, as my friend knows I feel pretty strongly about it this year). Best of all… the announcement said that they would NOT be taking donations at the event, and they would be calling the Senator from the event (yeah no celebrity cameo but the next best thing). And they were going to have booze.

But then Saturday happened the way these things happen. I bummed around in the morning, then went to work for a while, then went for a run, and all of a sudden it was three o’clock (start of the party). So I had this brilliant idea — why don’t I go straight from my office to the party? Hey, I’m already in Palo Alto… time to call my friend.

So I call her.

Radio silence (normal).

Hmmm awkward… house full of her friends, at an event I had talked with her about going to — shall I go by myself, without talking to her?

And another minor complication… I don’t know how dressy these things are but I’m guessing my old ripped jeans and a brown sweatshirt would qualify as underdressed.

But I decided I could deal… hey it’s the Democrats, right, they should be cool with that?

What I hadn’t counted on was the Priuses.

See, when I got to the host’s house — this pretty big house in old Palo Alto, Obama signs and balloons and all that — it was surrounded, for several blocks on all sides, by a rapidly growing fleet of Priuses. I’m not shitting you. They were coming from all directions. And what was worse, as they were arriving, four of more people would come out of each one. All dressed up, in pretty long coats (yes it’s still raining), with pretty party hair, you get the picture.

And here I was, all by myself in my jeans and ragged sweatshirt in my Yukon, with the engine idling (6 liters puffing away) and the windshield wipers on, watching in disbelief.

I could get over the awkwardness of going to my friend’s friend’s party without having told her.

I could get over the awkwardness of being underdressed.

But the Priuses…

So I left. Cold feet. I just couldn’t deal with it. I pictured it for a second… but I was afraid that if I went in I’d get so annoyed that I’d find myself voting for Huckabee or something on Tuesday. 

Too bad… I’d been hoping to score an Obama sticker.

Probably better this way. Wouldn’t look right on my Yukon…

Follow-up 2024:

The young senator I was intrigued by ended up being my favorite president of all time. I was in Chicago on the night of his re-election, and we crashed the party at the convention center where he was for election night. We saw the speech when he won. It would have been my favorite political experience ever, but instead that was probably watching the C-SPAN vote when he gave everyone health-insurance coverage. 

I ended up needing that when I lost my job. 

I got my sticker.

My friend is no longer my friend. It is a huge loss.

Regarding elections the world has changed, and not for the better. This year, we didn't have a primary. Everyone bowed when the incumbent said he wanted to go another term. Everyone bowed when his predecessor said he wanted to go another term. But all of a sudden it looks like it's going to be interesting...

I still don't like Priuses. They're kind of over and done with, but I still think they're sanctimonious little shit cars for people who think they're saving the world by recycling and not grooming.