The Caucus Comes to Town

I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say Iowa is known for two things. One of them is corn. The other, of course, is the state’s position as first among the presidential caucuses. There has been a lot of discussion about whether or not Iowa deserves this position, but currently if a man or woman wants to get elected president, they have to go through Iowa first.

Personally, I’m okay with this. I know many people to consider Iowa a “kingmaker” state, as it were, even though NPR spent almost the entire day explaining why having the first presidential caucus means absolutely nothing and no one should be attaching any sort of significance to this other than to say this is how people feel now. That was either the most ironic or most Zen thing I believe I will ever hear in 2012.

What the political experts don’t seem to realize is that they’re the only ones smart enough not to care  that the Iowa caucuses don’t mean anything. They also don’t realize that this is where it all starts. It’s like the beginning of a race. The debates and the pressing of the political flesh on cable television networks were practice laps, that’s all. It was a chance to get the kinks out of the presidential candidates’ positions and let everyone see whose views were right for them. Now the race begins, and everyone wants to see who pulls ahead of the pack early.

This was why I found myself heading for the northeast Iowa Community College outreach center in Cresco on Tuesday night. I’d driven twelve hours more or less straight the day before, going through hell and blizzard-like conditions to get from Michigan to Iowa, and I kind of wanted to just kick back and relax a bit. Massaging my aching accelerator foot sounded like a good idea, too.

To be fair, the Democratic Caucus was also going on, albeit in a small town about ten miles to the north, but that was kind of boring. We all know who they’re going to elect. I mean, it’s not like Al Sharpton is going to get the surprise nomination. But the Iowa Republican caucus? This was going to be fun, especially given how extreme some of the candidates’ views are. Who would lionize Rick Santorum, for instance? Who was going to get up and speak on behalf of Michele Bachmann? Would anyone speak up on behalf of Mitt Romney?

Before we go on, I want to give a brief overview of how the Iowa Republican Caucus works. First, everyone gathers in a room where they are given the names of the presidential candidates. Each presidential nominee then has someone speak on his or her behalf. Sometimes, these people are specially sent by the nominees. Other times, someone who fervently believes in the nominee stands and delivers a quick speech. I was told by my contact who informed me about these caucuses that some of these speeches could be very moving.

The first thing that struck me about the Iowa Republican Presidential Caucus crowd was that some of them either don’t know how to park, or are simply jerks when it comes to parking. Listen, if you are going to an event that will be popular and there is limited parking, PARK BETWEEN THE LINES. Don’t nudge your car or truck just over the yellow line a bit, and if someone does that, then the person on the other side of the parking space shouldn’t nudge their car just over the yellow line to create a parking space between them that is only suitable for someone whose vehicle is an anorexic snake.

The second thing that struck me is the caucus was a very polite crowd. In the small lecture hall, people were talking and laughing, and while I did see one or two presidential stickers, for the most part it was low key. There weren’t any signs or banners, and at no time did a chant break out for one of the candidates. I hate to make this comparison, but the banality of it all reminded me of the Shirley Jackson story, “The Lottery.” Small town folks were cheerily talking amongst themselves, and in minutes they would make a decision that could potentially affect the direction of the United States. Yet here they were, treating it as though it were an ice cream social. This comforted me. These people may hold different beliefs than I do, but underneath it all they were still people, and at the end of the night it was pretty likely everyone was going to cast their vote and go home friends with everyone else.

The chairman of the Howard County Republican Party started things off. He got in a few digs at Barack Obama, which was to be expected and a lot less harsh than they could have been. He also welcomed everyone to the caucus, saying he was pleased to see such a large turnout. He also told the entirely Caucasian crowd that the Republican Party was a “Big Tent party,” with plenty of room for different beliefs and ideals. I think the irony escaped almost everyone in the room.

After that, he invited any designated representatives of the nominees to come up and speak. No one stood, and I have to admit I wasn’t that surprised. I have no idea how many votes Howard County is worth, but I suspect it’s not a lot. Besides, that meant that whoever got up to speak on behalf of the nominees would actually genuinely want them to be president!

I have to admit, I’ve followed the Republican debates and seen the rise and fall of pretty much every GOP nominee, followed by the same thoroughly predictable news story. From my point of view, I haven’t been impressed with the GOP candidates, and I’m worried that one or two of them might be certifiably insane. Then again, I don’t talk a lot about politics with people whose views are vastly different than mine. So this was not only a chance to see how presidential election politics worked, it was a chance to hear what the other side thought, so to speak.

So how were the speakers? All right. None of them were accomplished public speakers, except for the reverend who stumped for Rick Santorum. They all got to talk for about five minutes as to why they liked the candidate they liked, and all the candidates had someone willing to stand up for them except Newt Gingrich and Jon Huntsman. I was kind of expecting that Jon Huntsman wouldn’t be supported all that much, but Newt Gingrich not having anyone to support him? I almost wanted to raise my hand and volunteer, which was when it hit me—I could volunteer to speak for Newt Gingrich! I could volunteer to speak for Jon Huntsman! Not that I actually did. As much fun as it would have been to do five minutes of insulting Newt Gingrich, I’m pretty sure I would have gotten lynched. I’m also known to hold liberal views, so even doing a serious five-minute support speech would have drawn suspicion. Still, I could have done it if I had wanted to. That’s what really made me hold my tongue.  Imagine being able to get up and speak to a listening audience about why you feel someone should be elected President of the United States! That kind of power, accessible by anyone, deserves some respect.

During the speeches, I learned one or two interesting things, the most interesting of which was that Rick Santorum had visited the Cresco restaurant Su-Z-Q’s during his tour of the state. Personally, I think that’s a political gaffe that puts the whole Herman Cain adultery scandal to shame. If a man is so lost and lacking in judgment that he visits Su-Z-Q’s when he’s feeling hungry, then I don’t think he can possibly make a good president.

Finally, the speechifying was done, and it was time to vote. As I walked out of the caucus, I thought about what I’d seen. This is what the millions of dollars poured into presidential campaigns come to—a bunch of people sitting down and trying to make up their own minds. Some of them are smart, some of them are stupid, some are rich, some are poor, but all of them get a say and all of them get a vote. A flash of pride surged though me. As I drove home I passed Su-Z-Q’s. I thought I saw Rick Santorum in there, but I couldn’t be sure.

Presidential Candidates and House Fires

So. There wasn’t much to write about this week. In all honesty, this is in large part my fault for not getting out and doing some exploring. However, I journeyed down to Cedar Falls this Saturday, went to Rochester to practice kendo on Sunday, and the one interesting thing that happened, a visit from Tea Party favorite Michele Bachmann, happened while I was at work. Seriously, she scheduled her visit from 3:30 to 4:00 pm. Now, I know that Michele Bachmann is a very busy woman. However, I also know that she holds fast to the idea of people who like to work for a living and disdains those who are unemployed or, worse yet, on welfare. Even though I’m not a political consultant, I would like to offer this one piece of advice to Ms. Bachmann—if you schedule a campaign stop after noon and before five, you’re going to get a LOT of people who quite frankly don’t have anything better to do, because most of us are working. Granted, you may also get a few people who run their own business so they can afford to take the time off, but in Cresco? I think you can count those on one hand. Maybe two hands if the Decorah Tea Party regiment came, but I’m reasonably sure most of those people couldn’t get any time off.

Regardless, the event came and went with very little fanfare. I was actually impressed with how little fanfare there was. I had to find out about the visit through the little billboard on the corner of Highway 9 and Main Street, which struck me as a little undignified, since the item right after Michele Bachmann’s visit was a pancake breakfast on Wednesday at the VFW hall. Such is life in the small town.

This afternoon, though, there was a big event in Cresco, and I was an eyewitness to it. I was out taking some photographs, and as I was refilling my car, I saw plumes of smoke erupting from downtown Cresco. They were black, nasty plumes, and I’ve seen them in person before only once—it’s the smoke you see when a building is on fire. I jumped into my car and peeled off, trying to find out what was going on and maybe do something to help. When I parked my car, though, I realized two things—one, there was already a police officer and a lone firefighter on hand, and some good Samaritans were looking over a man who appeared to be in shock. Down a sidestreet that was more of an alley, the kind of street name that you’d think of as being “145 ½ Street.” The first building down, a professional garage, was on fire.

It’s possible you’ve never seen a building that’s on fire before. I have once, and maybe twice, but this time brought home just how hazardous a burning building can be. One of the garage doors was open, and fire encircled the top beam of the garage door. Inside, I could see the walls were on fire, and the borders of a far window I could see through the garage door were on fire. It seemed surreal, as though this were the set of a movie and it couldn’t really hurt anyone.

The sense of unreality was broken as I watched the fire truck pull up, loaded with firemen. They all dismounted with what seemed like no sense of urgency, and then went straight to their tasks, which was when I realized that they were urgent about what they were doing, they just weren’t hurrying the way you see firefighters on television or in the movies. Real life firefighters all have a job that needs doing before they can start extinguishing the fire, and they all mean to do their jobs right the first time. This means being thorough, and if you’re dashing around, letting your sense of urgency guide you, you might miss something that will make your teammate’s job very hard.

Even without the Hollywood hustle, the firefighters had their hoses blasting the garage with water in a touch less than a minute. I wasn’t exactly measuring their time with a stopwatch at this point, but I was impressed with how quickly the process seemed to flow.

Maybe thirty seconds after the firetruck had arrived an Ambulance did, complete with an EMT who, again, did not dash over to the man sitting down across the street, but walked fast and with great purpose. I don’t know who the man was, although I suspect he was the owner of the garage. I watched as the EMT gave the man some oxygen and tried to get a response from him, although he was having no luck at first. It seemed like the man was either in a state of shock or had simply shut down in a horrible organic version of Microsoft’s Blue Screen of Death. I could sympathize.

The thing about accidents is that the bystanders and people who read about it in the news simply assume that, unless permanent bodily harm was suffered, the person will be able to get back on with his or her life, and that’s simply not the case. If the man was smart and had fire insurance, he’ll probably have to go through a labyrinth of paperwork and some investigation courtesy of the insurance company, who will want to make sure it is not being defrauded and doesn’t have to pay out the money unless it absolutely has to. While this is a good business practice, the wait can be excruciating. Not to mention his premiums are almost guaranteed to go up from now on, and if the man is a small business owner, his main source of revenue has just been obliterated. I hope that man has friends, I really do. I hope that the people who know him can see fit to all find a spare ten dollars or so and help him out. I have no idea who the man is, and I’m heading home in two days instead of tracking him down and trying to offer some assistance. I don’t know what that says about me as a human being.

I’ll end this entry by saying it’s been a pretty interesting ride. I’ve enjoyed myself immensely, and I hope my readers have too. I’ll be taking a week or so off while I go visit my family in northern Michigan, so don’t expect any entries until early January, 2012.

Happy Holidays!