I wasn’t even going to go last night. The invitation said it was a reception at Club Majestic downtown for the Dean campaign, but they made it clear that the candidate himself would not be there. I was feeling antisocial overall, and I’d forwarded the invitation to a bunch of people and didn’t get much of a response.
But then my friend Wayne called me and said he wanted to go to hear Dean speak. So I broke the news to Wayne – Dean won’t be there. Yes he will, Wayne said, I read it in the paper.
And I looked on some local news sites, and there it was – Howard Dean would be appearing just a few blocks from my house.
So we went, and stood on the balcony at the last two open spots, where you could pretty much see the stage if you craned your neck way out over the railing.
It was so worth it.
Just to see and hear him in person was a rush, honestly. And as disheartened as I’ve been lately with the political process, Dean’s drive, his focus, his enthusiasm were just the shot in the arm I needed. (The roar of the crowd didn’t hurt either.) And I began to think again that maybe, just maybe, there’s some life left in his candidacy. And in this country.
After the (all too short) speech, Wayne and I sprinted downstairs to try to shake the governor’s hand. But we couldn’t break through the five-deep crowd that surrounded Dean. So we left, me clutching the yard sign that my condo rules say I can’t put in my window.
And it felt good.