I spent Saturday morning canvassing a Cary neighborhood for the campaigns of Janet Cowell (State Treasurer) and Al Swanstrom (NC House 36). I love getting out and meeting people, especially when the weather’s great.
It was a fair guess that a lot of the folks in this upscale neighborhood would lean towards the GOP. Normally when I canvass I’m used to a list almost exclusively of Democrats, so having independents in the mix (and many undeclared Republicans) presented an interesting challenge.
Riding my bike through the neighborhoods I knocked on the doors of a lot of empty houses, their occupants on vacation. Every single person I talked with was friendly to one extent or another. Some politely took the handouts. A few women answered and refused to open the door, fearful of intruders. And every now and then, someone would greet me and talk my ear off for 10 minutes. Its these people that make it all worthwhile.
I rode up to one gentleman in his 70s who was returning from the mailbox, his two small dogs by his side. Though he said right off the bat that he donated to the Republican party, he was quite friendly. I spent the next ten minutes chatting with him as he told about the cancer affecting one of his dogs, and how the vets at the N.C. State vet school were doing wonderful things. He also told me all about his visiting 12-year-old grandson, perpetually parked in front of his television. Good lord, I’ve forgotten about all the things we talked about. In fact, I had to drag myself away! I must have learned something in all those years in sales because by the end of our talk I had him agreeing to give my candidates a fair shake. And you know what? I’d say odds are even he’ll vote for them.
The second resident to engage me was a widow from Connecticut. Walking up to her house, I somehow had a feeling this would be a wild one. She was in her late 60s and quite the talker, too, to the point I gave up trying to steer the conversation. I was pitching local candidates, but this woman wanted to talk about the national race.
“This is the first year I’m not voting for someone,” she confessed. “I’m voting against someone.”
She went on (and on, and on) explaining how Obama was a “disaster waiting to happen.” She fumed at how Michelle Obama had said “for the first time in my life, I’m proud to be American.”
“That lost my support for them, right there,” she said, shaking her head.
She apparently also had a problem with Obama’s race. “His white mother slept with a black man, and he’s been bragging about it! Fifty years ago that would’ve been the scarlet letter.”
Oh, my. At this point I’d knew I’d found a live one. Its hard to fault someone for something his parents did, especially if what they did was directly responsible for his existence. Somehow this was lost on her, though. Even my “well, a lot can change in 50 years” comment didn’t convince her.
Then it was McCain’s turn. “I’m not happy about McCain because of the way he caved in to Bush in 2000. Its partially his fault we’ve had seven years of the blooming idiot that we have now. He’s the lesser of two evils, though.”
My eyebrows must have been sky high by now, but we finally found something we agreed on: Colin Powell would’ve made an excellent candidate.
As I was ready to continue my journey, she left me with a bombshell.
“Obama will never make it though his presidency,” she muttered. “He’ll get bumped off before he finishes his term.”
Whoa.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked in disbelief.
She continued. “With all the Ku Klux Klansmen and midwestern white supremacists out there? He’d better watch out.”
Oooookay. It was getting quite uncomfortable on her porch, to say the least.
I thanked her for her time and assured her that my candidates were local, patriotic white people so she had nothing to fear. She smiled and returned to her television and I walked away not entirely believing the conversation we had just had.
For the record, too, I won her support for my candidates. I just don’t take no for an answer, even from those folks who are off their medications.