The Party

A bus pulls up in front of the Holiday Inn and dressed-up women in heels step off. My mother and I look at each other--where were they all day? But that's politics. Even in the Democratic Party the suits show up to the Victory Party and stand in their special roped-off section and the grunts--the people who actually do the work (often women, by the way)--elbow each other for a space on the ballroom floor.

Of course, there's no room in the ballroom because the press are taking up 1/4 of the space. I've never seen so many press. And they'll talk to anyone--I'm interviewed for a Swedish newspaper and the ABC affiliate in Phoenix. Our friends are interviewed by the BBC and a crew from Tokyo. I don't have anything interesting to say. But they don't seem to care.

There is a carrot working the crowd--he's running for president to bring attention to vegetarianism. I guess he didn't realize Kucinich was already doing that.

The soundtrack is Bruce Springsteen and U2. The message is the same. I'm thinking that JK is going to have to change his speech a little next week. He can't keep saying that he loves each state he's in. I don't join in the chants of "Bring it On!"--that's going to have to change, too. Right? Can't you just see Karl "Magic Hands" Rove photoshopping JK's head on to a photo of Kirsten Dunst's cheerleading character from the movie? But that's just me. The rest of the crowd loves it and even though it's a cash bar most people hang out long after the candidate's speech is over. It's nice to win. Mom and I get in the car and head for home.
posted by Marissa at 7:08 PM

Tuesday--Primary Day!

The polls in Manchester are open from 6am until 7pm. We report for duty around 8am (best to pace yourself) and are sent to a polling place in Ward Three. I'm thinking, it's January in New Hampshire--will people actually be standing outside of polling places with signs? The answer is yes. We are those people. It's 8 degrees. We know because there is a rotating sign across the street at Pappy's Restaurant that flashes the time and temperature, making it impossible to pretend. Everyone is represented: Clark, Lieberman, Dean, Kucinich, Edwards and Kerry. Well, almost everyone--where art thou Rev. Al? Someone else is here, too--blond Floridians for Bush. When I see those Bush/Cheney signs I realize my anger towards the man has only increased during my time in NH--I consciously have to bite my tongue (which is luckily covered in layers of fabric).

The media is there, filming us. (And laughing at us, I bet, from the comfort of their heated trucks.) The lump with the glasses? That was me.

The Dean campaign has done one thing right: their sign holders are standing on rubber car mats and have an actual heater thing (hooked up to a gas grill tank) with them. I am too afraid to ask to use it. The Kerry campaign has provided us with old-fashioned feet and hand warmers, which do help a bit.

12 noon
We can't take it outside any longer so move inside to make get out the vote phone calls. I'm receiving lots of complaints that I'm the 4th or 5th call that day but at the same time almost everyone has voted for Kerry. It's the final day--the New Hampshire voters have had it. I'm glad they have me to take it out on.

2pm
The place to be today is the Merrimack Restaurant on the corner of Elm Street. Dennis Kucinich's hippie brigade is dressed in red and white striped pants. They are dancing around with signs and singing, "Eat your spinach/Vote for Kucinich." They spent Monday night spelling out the candidate's name in the windows of their Manchester headquarters with campaign flyers. I might have handed those flyers out to voters but hey, it looked pretty.

Kucinich is in the restaurant so it's impossible to get inside to confirm whether he is in fact eating spinach. The Edwards bus is driving down the street. CNN is filming. George Stephanopoulos again--he is the same height as my mother! Robert Novak. A guy with a sign that says, "My vote is for the Patriots!". Documentarians galore. It's all happening on this corner.

But we have a campaign to win. And more phone calls to make.

5:30
We are pulled off the phones and put into teams for what we'll call a "Knock and Drag" operation. It involves physically going to Kerry voter's homes (or at least people we think will be voting for Kerry), knocking on their doors, and offering to take them with us right then and there to the polls to vote. Mom learned her lesson the night before and refuses to go with just the two of us. We drive with a guy from Massachusetts who used to live in the area.

Why are we doing this? Because it's a close race between Dean and Kerry and every vote is going to matter. This isn't true, of course, but that's what the people in charge tell us. What is true is that it isn't over until it's over. You should never stop working until the polls close.

6:15
The guy is lovely but he drives like a maniac and his car keeps stalling. I'm getting carsick and I'm not having any luck with these voters. Most people aren't home and we hope that means they're voting. Some refuse to come to the door (I can hear the TV). The ones who do look at us funny. They already voted. Finally--I get one!!! A twentysomething kid comes to the door. He didn't realize the polls closed at 7pm. I say we can give him a ride. He actually agrees! I yell, "I got one!" He gets in the car, even though it was missing one of its back passenger door windows. Who knows if he's going to vote for Kerry but who cares!

6:30
None of us know where the polling place is. We call into headquarters (it's a wonder campaigns ever functioned without cell phones) and get the location.

6:45
We drop him off. Turns out he lives about a five minute walk from the school.

posted by Marissa at 10:07 AM

Monday
12noon
We're doing another lit drop--this time in a beautiful Manchester neighborhood. (We refused to go back to the woods.) Manchester has done a wonderful job of preserving their old mills and historic buildings. It makes sense that practically every news outlet in the world is using the city as a backdrop.

1pm
It's trash day in the neighborhood. I score two retro tray tables! (Priorities.) Mom just shakes her head.

2pm
Bathroom break. We check out the Picasso, Matisse and Calder at the Currier Museum of Art. It's completely empty.

4pm
We do the unthinkable--flyer cars in a public parking lot. I am not proud of this. The campaign has gone guerilla.

7:30
We risk life and limb to drop "doorknockers"--bright orange paper reminders to vote which we literally place on people's doorknobs--in a sketchy neighborhood after dark. How would you feel about someone lurking around on your front porch and fiddling with your door in the dark? Not good, and we imagine the dog and gun owners of New Hampshire don't either. But we do our best. Until we become convinced we are being followed (and not just by the Leiberman campaign) and call it a night.

10pm
We finally see a candidate! And, thankfully, it's John Kerry. He arrives at his main headquarters for a rally. You can't get in without a credential and the firefighters are working security--don't even try it. Tim Russert is there, hanging out in the hallway talking to Mike Barnicle. Kerry arrives--I miss shaking his hand because he hugs a woman standing a few people away from me. Mom gets suckered into taking some guy's picture and misses her chance to say hello, too. Kerry jumps up on a desk and pumps up his workers. Then slips out a back door. The press is waiting and pissed. He looks tired.


posted by Marissa at 7:23 AM

Sunday
Today is tough. I'm tired and cold and Mom and I are getting on each other's nerves. It's easier to motivate when you are campaigning for your mother or your brother (he's a State Rep) or someone you at least know. And let's be honest--my motivation here is more anti-Bush than pro-Kerry. When it comes right down to it I'd feel comfortable voting for Dean or Clark or even Kucinich. I just want the guy who can do the job against Bush. I'm not happy that it's come to that. But there it is.

In 1984 my father took me to a George McGovern rally at Boston's Faneuil Hall. It was a snow day. I was in sixth grade. I knew Dad was supporting Mondale but every few minutes he would jump up and cheer. Everyone was. I asked my father how he could vote for Mondale if he believed in everything McGovern said. "Because Mondale can win," he answered.

10am
Donuts! Seriously, there is something about politics and donuts. I give in to a cinnamon cruller. We're at the headquarters awaiting our canvassing assignments. A congressman from Massachusetts is there, speaking to the troops. People are excited. The influx of workers from Massachusetts over the weekend has been energizing. There's a good feeling in the air. The numbers are looking good--Kerry is currently polling ahead of Bush! A bunch of people arrive and I'm told that it's Max Weinberg (the drummer) and, once again, Scott "Bailey" Wolf. On the news I see that Clark had Ted Danson and Mary Steenburgen at a rally, so I guess we're even.

A guy we like from headquarters wishes us "Godspeed." Mom's his favorite. "Same to you," she says.

noon
Remember that episode of "The Sopranos" when Christopher and Paulie got lost in the New Jersey woods? That's all I can say about our afternoon--except we were in New Hampshire.

2pm
Today was a day of rallys. Kerry held a rally at Nashua High School. And there was a monster car rally at the Verizon Center in downtown Manchester. Mom and I attended the former. Well, sort of--it was standing room only with people spilling out into the lobby. Imagine a rally with a political candidate on a Sunday afternoon in 10 degree temperature anywhere else in the country. Would anyone show up? Well, here in New Hampshire THOUSANDS of people showed up. Entire families came to the high school gym to see a senator! And quite a few of them are still undecided. They're trying to catch all the candidates in person so they can make informed decisions. America at its best, my friends. Everyone was there--Planned Parenthood, the Dean people giving out donuts (where does it end?), the Rock the Vote kids giving out stickers. I had to beg them for one, I'm sure because they thought I was too old. There were also free copies of Windsurfer Magazine with a cover story on Kerry. Apparently the senator takes his windsurfing very seriously. I don't know about that but I hear he has taken to his helicopter again, which makes me nervous.

4pm
Mom and I head back to the woods to finish our canvassing. We will not leave until we have reached that one last elusive voter who somehow has missed the fact the primary is Tuesday. We curse the person who decided naming streets after trees was a good idea. Elm, Beech, Balsam, Fir, Pinetree! Wicked, wicked woods. A bright note: we find the most perfect example of a snowman we have ever seen. I guess you get a lot of experience living in New Hampshire.

6pm
I can't make another phone call. Mom makes two more pages but quickly becomes discouraged. People are complaining to her that they've received five calls that day alone. I've decided that I'm taking the night off to watch the Golden Globe Awards. Mom is a slave driver. She wants to keep working. But there's not much to do, other than these calls. She's already decided that we will not be doing any more canvassing unless it's somewhere with streetlights. We head to the Italian restaurant across the street. It's packed. Wolf Blitzer is there, which reminds me--I've noticed that a large percentage of houses here still have their Christmas decorations up. I want to think this has something to do with the weather. At least I hope it does.

Kinko's has become the place to be! I am not the only "writer" working here--I'm currently eavesdropping on a journalist conducting an interview with a poli sci professor on his cell phone.

I also want to report that I have found the "Nascar Dad"! He's in Manchester with a "NASCARR" vanity plate!

posted by Marissa at 12:28 PM

I'm wearing two of everything: hats, gloves, scarves, coats. And I'm still cold. The bitter New York winter we've been having didn't prepare me for the weather here. It's brutal. I'm holding a Kerry sign with one hand, the other hand is in my pocket. I alternate hands as my fingers become numb. Mom never wears hats (hat head) but she's reluctantly put one on. We're getting a few beeps and the college kids are cheering and chanting. After thirty minutes or so it's dark and mom turns to me and states that she is about to die. It's not time to go in yet but we do anyway.

7pm
Carole King is performing for Kerry supporters at 8pm. We've already been told that there are no extra tickets, but Mom is determined. She asks if they need people to work. They do. We race over to the theater and help check people in. When we're finished we are told that there are some extra seats for the volunteers. Carole is introduced by Gary Hart, who looks fabulous in black. Very Warren Beatty. Carole is amazing--she plays all her old hits and a few new ones and the audience sings along to "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman". I can't wait to get home to listen to my "Really Rosie" album.

10pm
The Holiday Inn has rooms for $299 a night. We head to their restaurant/bar for dinner. I'm getting an ABC vibe there. The thing about media people is that they all look sort of familiar but you can't quite place them. On the way out, we pass a short guy. My mother stops and turns to me, "George Stephanopolous!"


Saturday
8am
I'm at Kinko's, figuring out how to do this, and some guy is talking loudly on his cell phone about the primary. (I wish I could focus on what he's saying, but I'm typing!) With cameras on every corner, one does get the feeling that everyone in Manchester is focused on this Primary. The irony of all this is that New Hampshire is essentially a Republican state.

10am
We're going on a lit drop and we're bringing Laverne with us. She's a sweet older woman who drove up all by herself from Boston just for the day. She hops in our backseat and starts talking. We're used to urban lit drops where you walk the whole route; a New Hampshire lit drop (or at least the one we’re doing) requires a car. Mom drives, I handle the map and the lists, Laverne jumps out and keeps the conversation moving. This is mailbox baseball country--large houses set back from the road, developments, and lots of condo/townhouse complexes, many of them brand-new. Laverne said she heard someone describe Dean's Monday war cry as a "prairie dog on speed".

12 noon
Ringing a stranger's doorbell is not easy. I always feel bad, like I've come at the wrong time. I mean, it's not that common anymore, is it? Traveling salesmen are almost obsolete. The Jehovah's just lost Michael Jackson. And how the PIRG and Greenpeace people still do it I don't know. The phone is hard, too, but at least you can hide behind it. At the door it's just you. And a barking dog.

Most people are nice about it. Some pretend not to be home. I got a woman in a bathrobe, two twentysomething guys who looked hung over, and one middle-aged man who said he didn't have the time. I wanted to point out to him that I didn't really have the time, either, but I didn't. Laverne is a force. She said she felt like Driving Miss Daisy in the back seat. She keeps jumping out of the car before I even have the chance. Maybe it was the foot warmers.

2pm
Laverne grabs a bag lunch (peanut butter and jelly) and heads back to Boston. Mom and I head to the free hockey game, where Kerry is playing with Denis Leary and Ray Bourque and other former Boston Bruins and a few women from the gold medal hockey team. The game is over by the time we get there, so we miss out on seeing Senator Kerry actually playing hockey, but we do see Denis Leary. He's extremely skinny. Unfortunately we also miss Scott Wolf. You know--Bailey from Party of Five.

4pm
The only sign of other campaigns is signs: Clark and Dean have people out doing visibility and Edwards signs are planted in the snow. We stop for food. We've actually been eating rather regularly, for a campaign. I think Mom is guilty about this. I'm not--I've eaten enough campaign donuts in my time. Kinko's is conveniently located near a Dairy Queen! Even though it's 15 degrees out we stop.

5pm
More phone calls. It's tough--these voters are being inundated and will continue to be inundated until Tuesday at 7pm, when the polls close. They have been living with this for about a year. They hang up on us. Many are undecided. Or claim they are. Older people are more reticent about showing their cards. I have some who say they are supporting Kerry. The only other name mentioned is Edwards. It's funny how people strategize--some pretend they are not themselves and say they are not home. It's what we all do with telemarketers.

A guy I'm calling with jokes that at this point the campaigns will offer voters anything to sway them: "I can have a pizza delivered to you in twenty minutes. The Edwards people offered two toppings? We'll give you three!"

8pm
Mom seems to have gotten a page of Republicans to call. It's been an intense phone bank for her. But she's gaining quite the reputation as the go-to caller. She "burns" through the lists.

11pm
Coffee run. No Starbucks in Manchester, which is fine since Mom won't drink it. We head to Dunkin' Donuts where the cashier asks Mom if she's over 55. She gets a discount. The Econolodge is now overrun with Clark supporters, but no Madonna or Michael Moore. Come to think of it, I still haven't seen an actual candidate yet.
posted by Marissa at 2:08 PM

1pm
The Kerry Campaign, along with CNN, is headquartered in a cool old mill. We check-in there to get our assignment and it is something out of "Primary Colors" or "The West Wing". A big sign cautions that only those with "credentials" are allowed to enter. There are three levels of crendential, from what I can tell: S = Staff, P = Press and V = Volunteer/"Wintern". Clever. Too bad I'm feeling "Winter" more than "Win" at the moment. Helpful people ask if they can help us and we wait. It's weird to be on the wrong side of the desk. My mom has been a public official in Lynn, Massachusetts for over twenty years--first on the school committee and then on the city council. But that doesn't matter here. We have entered the arena of the muffin. A term I think we can thank Anonymous (aka Joe Klein) for. And at 31, I'm actually feeling it, too. Most of those people with the S badges are (gasp!) younger than me. Growing up, my brothers and I were always the youngest people at headquarters. A man in a wheelchair arrives and the place goes crazy. Everyone stops what they're doing to cheer. Mom and I aren't feeling it yet. We're still in limbo, not official. We wait.

We're sent to the Field Office, which has just moved to what was Gephardt's Manchester office. It's sad, but practical. Politics is nothing if not survival of the fittest. This is more what we are used to--a small office, no credentials needed. We pitch in right away. Conveniently a documentary film crew arrives to film!

An incredibly nice group of kids (I guess I can call them that, now) from UVA came up by van overnight to help out. Literally fresh-faced, they are eager and earnest and ready to make a difference. [Insert cynical comment.] Some of them came onboard after watching Monday night's coverage. I'm trying not to be cynical, and honestly, after watching Monday night myself, I am feeling less so. I was them, in 1988, freezing my ass off for Mike Dukakis. We lost. But times have changed.

I make it clear to the woman in charge that we have a laptop, a car, a cell phone--we are ready to do anything. She puts us on the phones. I hate the phones. My mother is great on the phones. She's having conversations, converting voters. I get answering machines and Republicans.

My mother has this thing--if she starts laughing and then she gets you to start laughing it's impossible for either of us to stop. It's awful and it happens at the most inopportune times: funerals, dinners, in front of people you're laughing it. Anyway, there's one guy in the office who gets her started. Everything he says she just looks at me and is ready to burst. He's one of those guys who pretends to be in charge when no one else is around but then when the important people are around you realize that he's not important at all. He works for them. He just likes it now that there are people below us. I ask him about the guy in the wheelchair at the main Headquarters and realize too late that I just gave him an opening: it was Senator Max Cleland, of course. We feel like idiots.

5pm
"Have you ever done visibility before?" Mom and I look at each other.



posted by Marissa at 12:20 PM

Friday, 10am
Mom and I load up the white Lexus rental with water, boots, diet coke and chocolate and pop in a Mary Higgins Clark audio tape. Thelma and Louise we are not. We're heading to New Hampshire to volunteer for John Kerry. A few weeks ago, when we signed up, his campaign was, I think I can safely say, dead; they asked if we could bring people with us. Now, everyone from Massachusetts is heading up there, wanting to be involved. Mom is upset she missed the big rally at the Manchester Airport at 4am Tuesday when Kerry returned from Iowa. I am not.

11am
There is little evidence on the drive up of the primary: two Kerry bumper stickers and a couple Joe Lieberman signs on the side of the road. I am intrigued by the "Please drive with courtesy--that's the NH way" sign that I see. It is certainly not the Massachusetts way.

12 noon
We arrive in Manchester, the largest city in NH. I need boots. There are more signs of political life here: every candidate and major news outlet is set up in Manchester. I even see a few LaRouche stickers ("The Real Democrat") on a pole. Joe Lieberman's "Joemobile 2004"--a PT Cruiser--is parked on the main drag, as is the ABC News bus. And I spy the Dennis Kucinich headquarters: three guys in a van. But the best thing of all--we watch as a car covered in Dean signs barrels through a red light just as a cop with siren blaring comes roaring through the intersection. The police car lets the Deanies go, presumably because it's on its way to something more important, but it proves that those Dean guys really are on the edge.

Have I mentioned that we're staying at an Econolodge? We're staying at an Econolodge. I'm pleased to see that the grafitti artist AWW has left his tag on our bathroom door.

posted by Marissa at 6:26 AM