September 3rd—happy
Labor Day!
The story so far…
A day or two before I left for Florida, I
was in the car with my fine husband telling me about a friend who, upon hearing
about what I was about to do, passed along a bucketful of excited compliments.
This was not a unique response. I’d been
feted and gifted and praised way beyond what I thought was deserved. (That
includes the heartwarming, very moving, comments so many people wrote after the
first blog. Thank you all, but really…read on)And so I said, “I’m not going to
Botswana or Darfur or Afghanistan. I didn’t join Doctors Without Borders. I’m
going to Florida, to a nice house, to work for President Obama. People are
overreacting.”
And my fine husband said, “Don’t you
understand why everybody’s so excited that you’re doing this? It’s because
you’re so old!”
What is there to say about that? I’ll
stick with my initial stunned silence for fear he might be right.
A second interesting moment happened at five
a.m. this past Friday morning, again with my fine husband at the wheel and
Sunny-the-dog in the back seat, all of us driving in the dark to the San
Francisco Airport. That’s when I had “that moment.”
Months after hearing
about this, talking about this, thinking about this, applying to do this, saying
I would maybe do this, then saying I would indeed do it—I was en route to the
airport which meant: I was actually doing this and what on earth
had I been thinking?
I felt trapped in a moralistic children’s
tale: I’d shot off my mouth—and why? Because it sounded so good? Was it all
about telling a good story? Worse, I’d told it for so long and to so many
people that now I had no options. There was no turning back.
There’s
a saying by Thornton Wilder that I’ve loved for a long time, perhaps because
until now, it was theoretical, academic. It says, “The
test of an adventure is that when you're in the middle of it, you say to
yourself, 'Oh, now I’ve got myself into an awful mess; I wish I were sitting
quietly at home.' And the sign that something's wrong with you is when you sit
quietly at home wishing you were out having lots of adventure."
So there I was, definitely in the “I have
got myself into an awful mess” phase and yearning to put the car in reverse and
go home.
But since I couldn’t, (the humiliation!
the shame!) here I am, in Pinellas County, Florida, living with a lovely couple
and two cute dogs, exhausted and exhilarated.
Friday evening my fantastic sister-in-law
and brother-in-law who live in Orlando, met me at the Tampa Airport, and after
we went out to dinner, they gave me one of their cars to use the entire ten
weeks I’m here, an incredible gift. But beyond that, unless they, too, decide
to chuck everything familiar and leap into the unknown, I’m sure they will
never understand what it felt like to see a friendly face after my pre-dawn
shakes.
And conquering one of my biggest
fears—getting lost in a strange city at night—I made my way with only a few lamentable
mistakes, like driving on the wrong side of a road once…Not entirely my fault. The
GPS insists on saying “make a slight right” when it means: turn right. Is there
a way to help the GPS express itself with more precision? Anyway, I reached
Palm Harbor near ten p.m. with enough time to say hello, unpack and pass
out—and then wake up early to go to nine hours of training back in Tampa.
There were several counties’ worth of new
fellows of all ages, skin colors, sexual orientation, physical wellness and
disability, and all passionate about re-electing the President. It is so thrilling
to feel oneself suddenly become part of that kind of community that all my
fears of falling asleep during the sessions were forgotten.We each had to
briefly tell what had brought us there. There were tales of medical disasters
and lives being saved by Affordable Care. There were students managing to go to
college on Pell grants. A lesbian professor, now “under employed” married to
her partner in California but unable to share her health insurance here…There
were people who came from Massachusetts to make sure they never again had
Romney as their leader. One of my favorite moments was from an extroverted,
high-energy black man who said in a rich boom: “I’m here because Romney boils
my grits!”
The Field Organizers and staff were
incredibly organized and moved through those many hours with speed and
precision talking about goals and how to achieve them and techniques and
information and, and, and… I hate talking about “energy” but you could have run
New York for days on what they projected. Energy and urgency (as in the
countdown to election day) and smarts and I realized I was intensely glad that
I was a part of something this important. I’m one small pebble in an enormous
mosaic, but it’s great being a piece of the picture.
It appears that Florida is even more
important than the label “swing state” implies. This state could guarantee a
win and furthermore, my county, which is “purple” is intensely important to
that win. (It is possible that the staff said something akin to that in every
training session in every county in the U.S. yesterday, but all I can say is—my
trainers convinced me that I am in the very heart of the heart of this election
battle.)
The Democrats in this part of Florida,
but they apparently keep a low profile. A person who was registering new voters
remarked that the Republicans said their party affiliation. Democrats whispered
it.
My hostess suggested that I remove the
Obama-Biden sticker from my sister-in-law’s car lest the car be keyed or worse .
She also mentioned the possibility of my being shot. Her husband seemed to
think that was extreme. I have removed the sticker.
Right now, I’m home from getting trained
and certified to do voter registration, and tomorrow, (Labor Day is not a
holiday for them) I’m going into the office to meet my Field Organizer and plan
out the week. So far, he’s only said that I’m going to work hard. I have no
idea what I’ll be doing or where I’ll be doing it, but I’m looking forward to
it, even if I am so old!
One more thing: In full disclosure I should
disclose (fully) that all the new volunteer fellows signed non-disclosure
agreements, and I understand completely. Not that I’ll know strategy or inside
gossip but—if I do, I’m not sharing it till after the election. Be
forwarned--the adventures of a Very Old
Organizer and Confused Driver may well become—or already be--the world’s most
boring blog.
Meantime, three days into this adventure,
I miss my loves but am glad I’m not
sitting home, wishing I were doing something—and I’ll sign off the way my young
Field Organizer does each time,
Fired Up!
-- Judy
p.s. I'm sorry the font is so huge and it might sound as if I'm shouting. I don't know how to fix it--blogging is as new and semi-terrifying as any other part of this adventure! But next time, smaller font, I promise.
Ifeel as though I jumped down the rabbit hole with you. Your enthusiasm comes across loud and clear and it is hard to believe I know someone who is about to undertakes something that most people think they would like to do but never do it. Regardless of Bob's "Old" comment I think your great, and I hope the experience brings us all a win.Nancy
ReplyDeleteLove the account. Want to know every detail. Also like the font.
ReplyDeleteIt's wonderful to get a glimpse of your great adventure. You're doing such important work, and it must be fun to share it with a group of fired-up, dedicated people. As Sue said, love the account. Want to know every detail.
ReplyDeleteJudy,
ReplyDeleteHow fortunate to have you as an active participant in this journey!
Confident for the win with you on the team.
Your posts will be a lifeline for those unable to more actively be aboard.
I will keep up the phone banks from this side of the world.
Deanne
Jude, I think you should give your supervisor an opportunity to read your stuff. In just a few paragraphs you've been able to convey the positive feelings surroiunding you. I can feel the excitement of your co-workers, the frustration of listening to comments from the "intentionally mis informed" but mostly how energized you must be. They could use your blogs for recruiting purposes! Not kidding either as I was with the "old" comment.
ReplyDeletePlease don't change the font.
Fascinating to get these details--feeling very lucky you are blogging this adventure. And not to contradict your fine hubby, but I'd wager your friends are so effusive and excited because they can't think of anyone they'd rather have take them behind the scenes this way. And your new post proves we're right about that.
ReplyDeleteThose of us with older eyes appreciate the font. I wish I were with you, but I'll try to do my part here in PA (if they let us vote).
ReplyDeleteLoving all the enthusiasm this conveys! Both on your part and everyone you're working with. And you know what - Romney boils my grits too! (that was a classic line if there ever was one).
ReplyDeleteJudy, What wonderful pictures you draw and stories you tell - you really bring your adventures to life. You are not "too old." We are leaders of a new generation who possess the health, intelligence and education and imagination to have adventures. Keep on with the good work - there are signs that Romney's foot has been in his mouth once too often! Trish
ReplyDeleteThanks to Margaret Maron for letting her FB friends know about your blog, Gillian/Judy. (When reading your Amanda Pepper books, you were Gillian to me.) What a wonderful thing you are doing. Some of us can only sit home and send $3 contributions to help wherever we can. I used to do volunteering, but at 74, I'm not sure that even the spirit is willing, and I know the body isn't. This election is so important to the future of our democracy. I don't think I have ever seen it under attack this way before, from the monied interests and their minions. Stay well, keep letting us know what you are doing, and keep FL in the Obama column on election day.
ReplyDelete