My parents were political people; I guess that’s where I got it. I still have a Goldwater pin, from the ’64 election. I remember a lot about that campaign (parts of it appealed to my 11-year-old brain!). I’m sure my parents are rolling in their graves about my political views, if there’s anything left to care. (Among so many other things to roll about!)

I’ve been working at the Democratic headquarters doing the phone bank thing. A discussion of early voting came up, and why it was awesome, la di dah. I said that I always go to the polls on election day, because when I was a kid the local polling place was in the gym at my grade school, and at least once, but I think twice, I was running around like a deranged little kid and my dad came in all dressed nice on his way to work, and I ran up to see him and give him a big hug.

It was a weird thing to pop up in my brain; I’d forgotten all about it. I wonder if they realized how much I got from them. Hm.


All fallen down, now. (Speaking of things gotten from them.)