Field Report- Texas Democratic Convention

I always thought I had a stomach for politics. Politicians and the political process have long fascinated me. I have never shied away from situations requiring a little political gamesmanship. In fact I have always been drawn to them.

One of my early childhood memories involves politics. I can recall being greatly upset by Jimmy Carter’s performance in a key debate against Ronald Reagan in 1980. I was five years old.

About a year earlier I had sent a letter to President Carter and had received a signed glossy and postcard from The White House as a response. This is a big part of
why I became a Democrat later in life. That and the fact that my mother and grandparents were and are currently Democrats, excepting my grandmother’s vote in 2000 for- ugh- Bush. But we blame that on a stroke she suffered a bit earlier that year.

I never saw the end of the contest. My bedtime was 8:00 pm, which was the midpoint of the debate. I’ll draw the conclusion that Carter’s performance continued along the same lines from the results of the election. My point is, from an early age I have felt attuned to the nuances of political life. That is why my experiences at the Texas Democratic State Convention over the last weekend came as such an ambush to my sensibilities.

I departed South on Highway 6 to Houston at around 3:30 am, determined to be prepared for big city traffic. Traveled the 3.5 hours per Mapquest, 4.5 actual hours due to traffic, without anything eventful occurring. I arrived to find out that the map of Downtown I had download was terrifically useless in the real world. I did the non-typical male thing and called the Hyatt from my cellphone.

Found the hotel and stepped out. I had forgotten about Houston air. You know how in some cities there are pollution problems? In Houston, the air is made up of two things- floating drops of petrochemical sludge and high humidity. In Chicago, the wind can knock a man to his feet. In Houston, the air is strong enough to do it without any breeze at all- and there seldom is one.

After riding the shuttle to the Convention Center, I found the Edwards Caucus. Around 50 people were meeting in a lecture hall led by Jorge from the Texas Win With Edwards site and a lady named Duffy. Fine group of people from all across the demographic spectrum- and more than I expected.

I finally got an explanation of why planning always seemed to be too-little-too-late for the Edwards campaign... Jorge was pretty much it in Texas and staff was minimal all across the country. I also met a guy from the original blog from Uvalde, TX. That was cool. I asked Duffy if I could hype JRE Grassroots, which I did and several people noted the URL. After that we were instructed to go to the Kerry Caucus if we liked after a SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT- more on that later.

I attended two other caucuses. First, the Progressive Populist Caucus, headed by David Van Os, the only Democratic Candidate running for Texas Supreme Court. I found myself thinking about bloggers I know- who would choose to go to what meetings. The PPC was definitely for the “tinfoil hat” and anti-Diebold machine crowd. Van Os gave a stirring address.

After that I left for the Peace and Justice Caucus. Several people from my District were there, including a man I’ll refer to as Bandana Guy, whose attendance at a peace and justice meeting later took on a semblance of irony. Fret not, we’ll get to his story. At this point, my “political stomach” still felt fine- no upsets, everything was digesting quite properly.

This brings us to the point when the District 22 Caucus began. Since I already knew I could not go to Boston, I treated it pretty low-key. I wanted to vote for the people I thought were best to represent our little enclave of Central Texas Democrats. Wait, strike the word little. As the fourth-largest delegation in Texas, I guess we really aren’t that tiny.

Anyway, we heard from just about every candidate for office from our area. Jim Dunnam spoke- the Democratic leader of the Texas House and the “Killer Ds” who invaded Ardmore, OK to protest redistricting. His law partner and right-hand-man John Mabry, my State Rep said a smattering of words. Chosen as the officiator of the whole process was Waco’s first African American mayor, the indomitable Mae Jackson.

I should mention as a point of advice for political convention newbies that the main activity in which you will participate is clapping. A lot of clapping. More clapping than could be done in two lifetimes if you are not a regular at these things. You clap at every introduction. You clap for every point a speaker makes that pleases you, even slightly. You clap when the speech is over. I even saw one guy applauding the only Coke on the Pepsi-sponsored Convention floor.

I would have clapped if it had been mine too.

I finally had to take off both rings that I wear. By that night I had bruises upon my palms. Clapping hurts.

The only thing more painful than the clapping is the long introduction each speaker receives. Everyone is introduced as “my good friend” or a “great, hard worker for the Democratic Party.” This is followed by what might best be called a small biography of each speaker, if by “small” you mean approximately the size of Clinton’s book. Facts are detailed from the introducee’s early childhood all the way through the contents of their breakfast that morning and how many times they visited the bathroom that day. Let’s just say the degree of anal-ness would have done Bob Graham proud.

Back to the caucus. I was sitting with my friend Toni, a Deaniac-cum-Edwards supporter and directly behind the aforementioned Bandana Guy. We got on pretty well- he had been involved in the McLennan County party for a long time. We were both newcomers. Mayor Mae was moving us along at a nice clip. Then we got to the Rules Committee nominations.

Apparently there has been a battle raging beneath the waters between the Democracy for America group and the other Democratic Groups in town. My understanding of the situation is that the old-line Dems want things to run the way they always have and for what they say to be gospel. The Dean group wants to change the way the process is run and is quite insistent about it.

A classic conflict, played out upon the shores of the mighty Brazos. I only wish it was even that romantic.

Toni and I had been riffing on the event with Bandana Guy. As the head man from DFA announced his nominee for the committee, our new friend leaned back and told us, “We’re about to see some blood.” He gestured to an older gentleman with long sideburns, another party vet. Up the man with the sideburns stood, his brow creased with worry and showing deep concern. Bandana Guy was beaming.

“Friends,” said Sideburns, “I didn’t witness it myself but I have heard from several people- several people- that the young man who has been nominated for this position is not even a Democrat.”

Anguish and murmuring from the crowd. Sideburns continued, “In fact, I heard that he stood up at a meeting and announced that before the primaries he had been an… Independent. He even said he had voted for McCain in the last election!”

The man with the Sideburns went on to say that he had worked for the party for years and only wanted “true blue” Democrats to represent his concerns on the committee. The whole thing was done in what in my opinion was a hateful and unprofessional manner.

The nominee said some words on his own behalf, including the- gasp- admission that he had indeed considered himself an Independent at one time and he did vote for McCain in the Republican primary in 2000. Bandana Guy observed with a bemused expression.
Needless to say, the nominee did not receive the committee position.

In fact, he lost out by a wide margin, especially among our county voters. My political stomach was beginning to sour but it hadn’t reached full fruition yet. That came later in the night.

Onward the event moved. I found out that I could have easily made it to Boston. There are gender requirements in Texas rules regarding the makeup of the delegation. Only one male had registered to be the one delegate our District was sending for Edwards and he was from a smaller county. If I had sent my registration, I could have virtually been assured of the spot- McLennan County is the largest in the district and I could have gotten those votes. Damn.

Since neither Toni nor I could participate in the remainder of the voting, as we signed in for Edwards and the rest had to be Kerry voters, I asked if she wanted to try to make it to the event the SPECIAL ANNOUNCMENT had told me of that morning. John Edwards had decided to do a special, unannounced meet-and-greet for his staunchest supporters in Texas.

Was I excited? Johnny Cash had returned to life and was playing my birthday party. My wife had given me the permission to go on a date with Charlize Theron and the actress was hot-to-trot for me. Donald Trump had decided a man with my sales skills was what he needed instead of all those Apprentice bootlicks and had offered me a seven-figure salary.

You’re damn right I was excited!

We ran as fast as we could through the Convention Center to the hotel suite where the M&G was taking place. I noticed that there were brownish Houston air-infected rain clouds in the sky. People were smoking and I couldn’t even smell it. Fat drops started to pelt the sidewalk.

I had wanted to meet JRE ever since my wife and I had started following the 2004 Primary Campaign. This was just the curative my political stomach needed. I would shake his hand representing my family, JRE Grassroots and his Central Texas contingency.

The room was packed from wall to wall. We arrived just as he was about to leave. Keep in mind, he was meeting with us between 4:30 and 6 and was scheduled to give the keynote address at 7:30 or so. If I was giving a keynote, I’d have to prepare all day and there’s no WAY I’d be in the mood to mess with the gushing throngs that poured through those double doors. I think that says quite a bit about the kind of person Edwards is.

I did get to shake his hand and got a picture. To my relief, I was not dumbstruck with awe and hero worship while talking to the candidate. Instead, I introduced myself and told him I was a frequent participant on his campaign blog and was now involved with JRE Grassroots. As so many others have mentioned before me, he looked smack into my eyes as he thanked me for the support. He knew of both groups and even seemed to recognize my screenname.

My stomach was completely settled as we left for the Convention floor. It would prove a brief panacea.

We sat on the front row along with a gay rights activist and a family from Cleburne, TX. After the World’s Longest Invocation I became painfully aware of a new trend among Democrats. I think we have all been listening to John Kerry too much. His iambic pentameter, stress-every-other-syllable form of sing-song rhetoric was the hottest thing going that evening. we MUST not SPEAK this WAY forEVer…

Heard from Houston Mayor Pro-Tem Carol Alvarado, a decent speaker who had received the memo I theorize circulated telling all female speakers to wear red dresses. She introduced Houston’s new mayor, Bill White as a legend in Texas. I had never heard of him. He gave a nice speech detailing the many changes the city had begun. Sadly none of them included doing something about the oily air. I had honestly worried about the rain igniting around the smokers outside earlier...

Speaking of igniting, John Edwards was the next speaker. I had seen Bill Clinton and Al Gore on their Texas bus tour in 1992. They had rowdy crowds. I don’t know if it is the political climate of the times or the fact that women ages 19-90 were clamoring to get to the front of the stage but their crowds had NOTHING on John Edwards!

His speech included some of the same lines from his stump on the campaign trail and some new lines as well. It was electric. I was amazed to see how much the announced crowd of 8000 thought of my favorite candidate. Edwards was actually called back for a curtain call. The atmosphere was like a rock concert.

An interesting sidenote- I had gone up front at one point to get some close-up photos. A chant started, “V-P, V-P, V-P…” The people who had started it were the John Kerry supporters who had run the Kerry Caucus earlier that morning. Draw your own conclusions.

That is when it started happening- my political stomach was bubbling and churning.

JRE was speaking about how we needed to be unified behind John Kerry and focused upon beating Bush. He talked about choosing inspiration and the politics of hope being victorious over those of cynicism and despair. My heart sunk down to my knees.

Oh, I believe Edwards was as serious and sincere about his message as he ever has been. That IS what politics should be about- making changes for the better in the lives of all people. Raising America to new heights and doing so together, despite what differences we might have. In my mind I replayed the events of the day and thought about the Deaniac who had lost out that afternoon.

It was after this speech that I realized what I had to do.

One of the 14 ½ interchangeable State Congresspeople was speaking by this time and echoing Edwards calls for unity, even quoting Biblical passages. I chose to be inspired. I went straight over to where Bandana Guy was standing chatting with a couple of people, ignoring a message he really should have been taking to heart.

I expressed my opinion about the events earlier in the day, about how we should be aiming higher and how the issue could have been handled in a much different, more inclusive way. I felt like I was a voice of reason, of sanity and unity.

My counterpart would have added “banality” to that list. I was totally ignored. In fact, stalked away from in a huff. I was told I didn’t know enough about the situation- the Dean group was a pack of spoiled brats who only wanted things their way.

Granted, the Dean group in Waco had always struck me as a bit… demanding, but my opinion is we shouldn’t be discouraging anybody who wants to participate in the process, many for the first time in their lives. In a county in which we are a decided minority, we can’t afford to alienate anyone.

Bandana Guy, as well as our party chair spoke to me that evening. Both sort of chuckled at my obvious political naiveté, giving me knowing smiles whenever my mouth would utter any idealistic words.

My poor, beleaguered belly was packing up and planning on retiring to Florida, an appropriate graveyard for the politically idealistic.

A few months ago a past party chair in my precinct give me a shot at being a delegate because he felt I could be part of the future of the party. Had I failed him now? Had I failed John Edwards? These questions were on my mind as I exited the building.

That is not to say I didn’t enjoy the rest of my time in Houston, despite the oppressive air. I got to know Toni better, who is a quality person and fun as can be.

I met guys like Pete from San Antonio, a former State Department consultant and Vietnam Vet who let me know just how strongly many vets feel indebted to John Kerry for saying what they could not.

I met young delegates like Jenny from Nacogdoches, a college student who was just in love with John Edwards and Zena from Houston, a longtime women’s rights advocate who was attending her umpteenth convention.

I met Vince, a large, pony-tailed biker type with a heart of gold and a great laugh. I even ran into an old friend from my dorm in college.

I got to be partly deafened by Lady D and the Zydeco Tornadoes and taste my first ever crawfish. Even the Legendary Bill White attended!

The next day I heard Sinfronia Thompson of Houston give one of the most honest, straightforward speeches I’ve ever heard. Rep. Thompson is an African American lady with large, black-rimmed glasses. She was funny and folksy but could change directions and speak to you straight to your heart in no time flat. I asked her to run for Governor after her speech. She did not decline. Rick Perry had better prepare to be flattened.

Which brings me back to my political stomach. That morning, somewhere in between the Texas Freedom Network’s symposium on reclaiming faith and freedom and Dennis Kucinich’s rousing Truman-esque address to the attendees, I realized that it no longer ached. I had not failed my patron from the District caucuses. I had not failed John Edwards.

Rather, I had finally gotten his message, in full and without distortion. I also finally understood Kerry's and Kucinich’s and Dean’s messages. I was not wrong in my thoughts. Those that have focused upon the odd little world they inhabit- that creates candidates for whom nobody feels good about voting- are wrong.

Those who desire only their goals to be achieved and damn everyone else are the ones who have failed. Our political process is about MORE.

Our view of the process is about making sure that no child, man, woman, sick person, gay, black, brown, transvestite, Independent, Republican, Democrat, liberal, conservative, moderate, janitor, mid-manager, CEO, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Unitarian or Atheist lacks a voice in what decisions we make as a society.

As Democrats, we are the party of the Optimism of Roosevelt, the Idealism of the Kennedys, the Faith of Carter, the Inclusiveness of Clinton, the Dream of King.

It may strike some as trite and naïve but most dreams do.

It turns out that my problem is not the lack of a stomach for politics. Nope. The only problem with me is that I have a heart that can’t tolerate political games that limit independent thought. That is a good problem to have, as it is one I believe I share with some pretty decent people, Kerry and Edwards included.

MBT