We spent our evening downtown tonight, at the Barack Obama rally. Crazy how the whole family came together for a single purpose -- except ds13 who was mystified as to why he'd want to be there.
As a result, he was left home with the responsibility of feeding the dogs and taking a shower. I think we're one for two on that count.
Hubby was a little stressed about the whole thing, because dd was slow getting home from her first day on the new job at the stables. Gave me time to water the new grass whilst hubby paced, till she rolled in and off we went, to stand in line for three hours. Yeah -- that's something to rush for, all right. CNBC got some footage of us -- ds18 blew them a kiss -- and a good time was had by all.
We were there with friends, and some people hadn't eaten, and for some reason the food vendors weren't out, except for a lone capitalist, lugging a cooler full of water bottles who was making a killing, and later showed up during a brief shower, with rain ponchos for sale. I expected him to pull out a martini shaker or bratwurst next, however, for all the buttons and shirts on sale, there was no food, so when the occasional good Democrat would go by with a pizza or Subway, someone in the group would slyly grin and only half jokingly say "we can take 'em." This would incite a momentary panic on the part of the passer-by, causing them to pick up the pace to a trot, never losing eye contact, and disappear into Daylight Savings Time pretty quickly. I guess the word's gotten round that my family and its food obsession is not to be messed with.
Oddities of the night were the panhandler with the sign that said "why lie? It's for beer," a thick accented Jamaican type accented guy who had a long, pleading conversation with us, the only thing of which we could comprehend is that White Castle has the cheapest burgers, and the old professor looking guy walking around sermonizing about how Iraq needs an American style electoral college. WHAT?
We managed to make it in and get about 50 feet from the stage. I have taken notes from my mother, the president, and have learned that you just have to take openings in the crowd, barge through, and the minions will follow. I managed to get us up there without yelling "lady with a baby" even once, which is pretty good for me. Missed the opening act (another politician, running locally for Congress), but we got to hear Stevie Wonder sing a couple of songs -- during which vertically challenged dd kept saying she couldn't see, to which I, in my typically smart alec frame of mind, said neither could Stevie.
The crowd went wild when The Man arrived. He's one motivational man, that's for certain. Motivational enough that someone in front had a hallelujah moment and hit the deck shortly into his speech. Next thing you know, the big O was asking for a paramedic. If you knew the hubby, you'd know why I was only half surprised that he, the nurse-now-painter, didn't hustle up there and make himself a hero. I think he was still on ds's shoulders at the time, making a scene of his own. Obama has no idea just how close he came to a brush with Utter Chaos.
Nothing's perfect thought: got rained on a little, hard to get out of the immediate area because they didn't get the gates opened up enough for more than a trickle of people to get out, and I wasn't going over the barriers like the hub wanted me to. "Honey," says the hub, "Thomas and I will life you over." I could just see that. Besides putting him out of work for a week, ds pulling his back and failing his physical for the new job, I'd end up on CNN as the crazy woman being lugged out of the rally, screaming some type of propaganda from the other team. They'd twist it, I'm sure, that I was some sort of Hoosier maniac, and that the snipers on the roof all had their rifles trained on me, when actually what would have happened was me being lugged over the retaining barrier and drowning in a port-o-let, while screaming "keep doing the CPR! I gotta get my vote in."
So yeah, I'll be taking part in shaping the future when I cast my all-too-suddenly important, not to mention downright-out-of place-because-it's-meaningful vote. So if you want to shape your own future, check out this fabulous Thierry Mugler suit, from Special Somethings Vintage Clothing. It's perfect for election time -- twists and turns, nothing's all black and white, and the hourglass shape says it's time. Hallelujah!
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