Droppin' the 'Baum on all those campaigners

Four years ago, Election Day was a month away, and P. Diddy was threatening to kill people who didn’t vote. I blamed George Bush for all of the world’s problems like a Southern Baptist blames the devil. I put my money where my mouth was and spent hours volunteering for the Kerry campaign.

I dressed up nice and went door to door to tell people about the wonders of John Kerry, threatening nonbelievers with the torture of a second Bush term.
Most folks where I lived seemed to prefer torture. One man turned into a guard dog and barked, “Bush! Bush!” until I left his property.

I put stickers on my car. Lots of stickers. I tried to drive extra considerately to prove that Democrats were polite and electable. I somehow believed people would see my wonderful driving and all my stickers and be overcome with the desire to vote for Kerry.

On my back window, I put the Kerry Edwards campaign sticker, the “Climbers 4 Kerry” sticker, and the no-smoking sign with a “W” in the middle instead of a cigarette.

I grew more zealous. I started to disregard truth entirely, and actually believed Kerry would make a great president.

I decided that anyone capable of voting for Bush was a backwards Puritan. They were rich and white, or poor rednecks, or workers who clung to religion and guns. They were fearful people desperately grasping for power, when it was so clear to me that real Americans just wanted their freedoms. Freedom to speak. Freedom to have abortions. Freedom to look at porn.

I couldn’t let these control freaks run the country. I would make Republicans look like the scum they were, and blow it up all over the media so the perfect candidate — Kerry — could ascend to his rightful position.

I jumped into my car, which was parked in the driveway, and pulled into the garage. I lowered the door, stepped out into the darkness and tried to let my eyes adjust. But I was in a hurry. Taking the key from the ignition, I felt my way around to the trunk and gouged a great big “aX” into the paint. I climbed back into my car, opened the garage door, and backed into the driveway.

When my mom got home, I showed her what some bigoted Republican had done, infringing on my freedom of expression. She was furious. The gall it took to key someone’s car in their driveway in broad daylight! She said we needed to file a police report. I wholeheartedly agreed.

The police said the incident appeared to be politically motivated. They’d look into it, but without a witness, it was unlikely the perpetrator would ever be caught.
I called a local news station to tell them what happened, but they didn’t seem terribly concerned. Neither did the newspaper. No reporters showed up at my door. No one heard what jerks the Republicans were. Bush won the election, my car dropped significantly in value, and I’m pretty sure my acne got worse.

That election brought out the worst in me because I was convinced it was a war between good and evil. I believed if my candidate won, all would be right with the world, and I did everything I could to make it happen, even at the expense of truth.

Today, I see people caught up in that same kind of thinking. But think clearly: If your choice of public servant wins, he will serve the country the best he can as a president. If he loses, he will continue to serve the country the best he can as a senator. Little will change.

You will still have good days and bad days. You will still do with your life whatever it was you were going to do anyway. Cable news will continue to fawn over the next panda that rides a tricycle. And four years from now, you’ll look at a new generation of campaign workers and think, “Man, I was a dumbass.”

alexander.tenenbaum@umontana.edu