2004-01-26 - 5:18 p.m.

true believers (part one)
48 hours with the deaniacs

i volunteered to go to new hampshire this weekend to assist the New Hampshire for Dean campaign. governor dean (formerly of vermont) is running neck-in-neck against senator kerry of massachussets in the upcoming new hampshire primary. new hampshire for dean is mounting a massive get-out-the-vote campaign, staffed almost entirely by volunteers.

i've always been attracted to governor dean as a candidate. kucinich looks good on paper but never set me on fire the way dean's speeches have. he talks about 'leading with your heart' and 'doing the right thing'. he talks about a message of 'hope, not fear'. i think it's especially unfortunate that the Democratic Leadership Council has succeeded in painting dean as a raging, angry, ultra-leftist (i've seen absolutely no evidence to support any of those claims). the most appealing part of dean's stump speech is when he tells the crowd that they have the power; to use the democratic process to change the way things are running; to take back their country. it's this message of empowerment that's garnered him a large and fanatical base of support among a particular demographic: middle class white twenty-somethings in and just out of college. recent graduates and dropouts staff most of the campaign offices.

friday night - holding out for a hero

despite several internal arguments against it, i steel myself against the cold, collect a new sleeping bag at paragon sports, and head to grand central to get on the dean bus to new hampshire. i have never seen so many smiling new yorkers in one place. there must be 150 people standing in 20 degree F weather and waiting to get on a bus for a four-plus hour ride to new england. by 6p, the organisers are overwhelmed by the number of people who have showed up. i think they were expecting more like 100 people. after some confusion i am assigned to the bus headed to derry. i take my seat and wolf down a sandwich. a nice-looking young man named mathew sits next to me. once we are past the bronx, he and i begin to chat about art and writing. he is a budding novelist and tells me the plot of the first half of his novel. he is ten years younger than me and has a girlfriend who works for the state department in washington. mathew is one of the principals of queens for dean and a bit of a true believer. he's also a lifelong new yorker and has a healthy appetite for sarcasm. he also has a flask of maker's mark in his back pocket, and he charms me completely.

i fall in love with most of the other new yorkers on my bus. there are 57 of us, about 2/3 of whom are under 25. but the rest of us are 30-65 years old. some of the older women are really, really cool. one of the brooklyn for dean guys, mannis, is 36 and becomes one of my favorite people over the course of the weekend. our 'bus captain' is nate, the sunniest and mellowest person i will encounter in the next 48 hours.

our bus is pulled over for speeding in connecticut. this is obviously bogus, and we conclude it is due to the huge 'dean for president' sign taped to the back of the bus. the cops are very rude and mention governor dean with sarcasm (i am told, i stayed inside the bus). our rastafarian bus driver is slapped with a $260 ticket. a hat is passed to collect enough money so he won't have to pay for it himself.

we are now delayed and will not reach new hampshire until nearly midnight. several people on the bus haven't had anything to eat and the troops are growing restless. a decision is made to stop at mcdonald's, and much grumbling ensues among the earnest liberals on the bus. i haven't eaten mcdonald's (or any other fast food) for years and am a little shocked at how greasy and delicious it is. i choke a crispy chicken sandwich down in a minute flat and feel i have never tasted anything so amazing.

a couple of hours and several sips of bourbon later, our bus pulls into the sad, deserted industrial park in salem, new hampshire that is home to the local branch of new hampshire for dean. it's after midnight. we crowd, bleary-eyed, into the office as the interns try to organise housing and rides for everyone. they are obviously not prepared for the number of people that now fill their space. along with the two girls who sat in front of me on the bus, i am uncermoniously packed into an intern's car. katie, the intern, wants to know if we are all just out of school. when i tell her i am 33, she doesn't really know what to say in response. joanna (22, special ed teacher from long island), and april (25, medical research assistant, greenpoint) are both in fact just out of school and engage katie in amiable conversation. i pretend to doze off.

at katie's home in manchester, we are unceremoniously dumped in the front room. there is a small twin bed in the corner, which is occupied by a snoring boy. there is a foam fold-out couch which has clearly seen better days. katie tells us where the bathroom is and tells us she'll wake us at 8a to go back to headquarters. as an afterthought, she asks what we'll need to get ready in the morning. i ask for a shower, and am flatly turned down. there are ten people crashing in every corner of this house and only one bathroom. with odds like that, i am sure to get a few minutes alone in the bathroom before we all get to sleep. the bathroom is in terrible shape, like a fraternity house after a football weekend. there is hair and soap scum coating everything. april, joanna and i assess our sleeping arrangements. april has brought a sleeping pad and feels comfortable on the floor. joanna doesn't want to share the foldout with me so i claim it and roll out my sleeping bag and try to get cozy. we shut the lights. i tune my ipod to play all its steely dan albums and try to drift to sleep. each time i manage to relax, though, the front door rattles its locks and someone comes in, steps over us, and showers in the bathroom. this happens three or four times in the next few hours. i don't get much sleep. the snoring boy has an alarm go off at 7:30a. he hits the snooze button several times. when he wakes up and gets dressed, he does not acknowledge us. i never even learn his name. when we are dressed and packed, katie loads us into her compact car and drives us back to headquarters in salem. i am crabby and unwashed.

stay tuned for parts two and three!
see photos of the weekend on my fotolog!