Pressdog.com

How I Saved the Country
by Going to my Iowa Caucus

By Bill Zahren
(Posted 1/20/04)

OK, so now if democracy goes down the crapper, nobody can blame me. Because I did my Civic Duty last night and went to the Political Goat Rodeo*, aka the Iowa Caucus.

I was badgered into it by roughly 15 recorded phone calls over the last three days from sundry candidates urging me, for the love of all that's decent and holy and precious to the Flag and Constitution, to go to my caucus site and stand up for (insert candidate name here).

Because, if I didn't go, well, the terrorists would win. Or Osama wins. Or someone really bad wins, I forget just who. Wait a second; it's SATAN who wins if we don't go to our caucus meeting. Yeah, that's it. The Evil One wants you to watch SpongeBob and drink beer on Monday night and not go pick a candidate for president of these United States using a process that was probably useful sometime back in the 1890s.

So, at 6:15 (15 minutes early because I feared lack of parking) I spat upon Satan by going to my caucus site at my daughters' school, Westridge Elementary in tony West Des Moines, Iowa.

Let me just say this about the people who put on the caucus -- they are like gods to me. Patriots, all. And the people who go out in 4-degree weather to sit in what amounts to a two-hour meeting just to cast a vote, well, that's the backbone of democracy right there.

Having said all that, can we ditch the caucuses, please? People just want to vote. The caucuses were probably excellent devices back in the late 1940s when you got together and actually discussed candidate positions and made some sort of decision based on listening to all the input.

Today, the input basically snows you under every day for six months. Here in Iowa, the Des Moines Register used a supertanker of ink to print months of stories, positions, analyses, special sections, details about who ran out of gas where etc. etc. etc. before the caucus. I went to candidates Web sites and downloaded position papers. It's information overload.

At 6:30 p.m. our caucus leader (who did an outstanding job) went through the official agenda and the rules. At 6:42 the speeches from candidate supporters commenced. At 6:51 Dean's electability came up. At 6:52, the Kerry and Edwards guys bristled a little bit at each other, but we avoided a brawl. And then, finally, at 7 p.m. and 20 seconds, we busted into "preference groups." That means standing up and moving to a part of the room to form little candidate posses.

My group, supporting the well-coifed John Edwards, clustered along a west wall. 62 strong we were, arrayed in ranks of 10, a formidable host and the largest company at our caucus. We allowed ourselves a small cheer. From 7:05 to about 7:17 we stood there and exchanged pleasantries.

It turned into a kind of Democrats Anonymous meeting in the heavily Republican burbs. "I'm just glad to be somewhere where I can talk to other Democrats," the lady right beside me confessed. "I'm about the only Democrat in our office." Cleansing breath. Amen, sister. You're among friends here.

It was a whole different scene than a few days earlier when some Young Republicans crashed a Joan Jett concert at Drake University in Des Moines. Joan was supporting someone, probably Howard Dean, and the Young Republicans happened to be meeting downstairs.

Eventually, a Young Republican approached the stage and got into a pushing match with Joan Jett. I'm sure it was over Joan's fiscal policy or her stand on capital gains taxes. Not sure what the Young Republican was thinking squaring up on Joan, who looks like she could kill ya with a mic stand. A semi-Springer like melee ensued. Des Moines' Channel 5 got good video. No arrest, though (darn it!).

Usually the Republicans don't go in for the physical stuff because it might wrinkle their suits, and an assault arrest does not look good on a resume.

At least at the caucus we could confess our Democratic-ness without fear of hearing the cries of "LIBERAL! LIBERAL!" and being chased by mobs hurling stones.

At 7:17 p.m. I was pleased to note that the Iowa state treasurer, Mike something, was in my Edwards group. Kidding, I know full well his name is Michael L. Fitzgerald and he's a cool guy. A Democratic treasurer! I thought the Republicans had passed a federal law that said only Republicans can handle the money. I expected John Ashworth to bust in at any second and hold the whole caucus as Enemy Combatants for having a Democrat who Handles Money.

So we milled into our groups at 7 and by 7:45 we were gone. We could have stayed for another hour discussing various platform planks that mean very little, but 98% of us bolted once we knew our preference was down in stone.

So now, after five or six years of campaigning, it's over in Iowa -- for now.

Nothing personal, but I'd like to lead the entire national press horde down to Interstate 80, point them east and slap their horses on the butt. Don't let the Mississippi River hit you on the satellite truck on the way out. We love visitors, but, giddy up.

Don't let anyone tell you otherwise -- the average Iowan LOVES the attention. We're like the homely guy who gets to dance with the Homecoming queen. We know it won't last, but we'll take what we can get, and try to arrange for all our buddies to see it and maybe even photograph it. Even if the national reporting here seemed (once again) to focus on 1) crops and farm animals, 2) the brutal cold and 3) most Iowans seeming to be about 76 years old, the state still loves-loves-loves being in the spotlight.

So good luck, New Hampshire and South Carolina. Vote for Edwards. Or Kerry. Or Dean. Or whoever. Just don't stay home. Because then, well, Lucifer wins. (And if I had to go, you have to go too.)

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*Shout out to my former boss and all-around hipster, J. Brad Shaw of tony San Diego, CA, for putting me onto the term "Goat Rodeo," defined as an insane, unorganized, grab-asstic event. Even though Brad stole it from someone, he enjoys getting credit for my usage thereof.