Nostalgia (part 2)

Part one here

Upon graduating from high school, I attended Miami University, a school located in he heart of gopland and whose 4% minority population is a good indication of the homogeneity of its student body. Miami's political claim to fame is its aluminus president, Benjamin Harrison, a man who's grandfather gave us an important life lesson: never stand in the January rain to give a lengthy speech. The political science building, just another of the red brick buildings on campus, is named after grandson, who in his quest for Governor of Indiana was "unfairly" stigmatized as "Kid Gloves" Harrison, according to the White House website. (I was not aware that biographies of presidents were rewritten at the change of an administration - the propensity for spin and disinformation of the gops never ceases to amaze me.)

There was an active campus political culture while I was there, though it was pretty one-sided the first year. I attended a meeting of the College Democrats that year, a meeting consisting of no more than ten people, though numbers were down for the GOP Youth, too. The next year, the College Dems were a force to be reckoned with, so much so that our president, Chad, who has since had a very successful career, was recognized by the Party for his efforts.

At one point during that glorious autumn, we drove up to Dayton from Oxford for a rally, getting there too late to get close enough to really see President Clinton. Southwest Ohio - gopland - turned out in droves to see the leader of the world. Oh, disappointment was great, for I could only see a tiny, gray-haired man in the distance, but I could hear his voice, and it called out to the heavens for justice in this cruel world. Yes, I believed in the hope behind his voice, never once considering the conscienceless force that loomed over the halls of our legislature.

When the air was pumpkin crisp and the trees raged about the loss of their green, we traveled through the Appalachian inferno to Washington, DC. We had been invited to the Clinton campaign headquarters as a result of President Chad's efforts in SW Ohio gopland - it was the thrill of a lifetime. If you've never been in a presidential campaign headquarters a few weeks before an election, go sometime. They have the energy of a billion thunderstorms, a mass of hope and tension and excitement swirling amidst the din of phonebank chatter and yardsign wallpaper. I stopped by the Kerry HQ a few days before the election - has it really been two years? - and I grew drunk on the feeling of possibility. It was quite a hangover, too. I still have it.

I've lived in DC for 3.5 years - has it really been 3.5 years? - but my memories of that first trip are of a foreign place, a place void of violent crackheads, disfunctional transit, horrendous traffic, overpriced housing, rampant racism, and Republicans in the White House. The memory of the first time I laid eyes on the pillared mansion has taken on a mythical quality, when the gift of reverence had bestowed on me the sense that I was looking at a castle in a fairytale rather than a house owned by me, an American taxpayer. The man inside that house had the power of God, but I, a voter, was his boss. Some of the outrage we "Bush haters" have is a result of Bush's refusal to accept the fact that he is accountable to we the people. FDR once said "I never forget I live in a house owned by all the American people and that I have been given their trust." The quote has been immortalized at the FDR memorial. Bush should visit sometime; he could learn something, if indeed he is capable of learning, for judging by what we've seen in the past six years, the guy is an anti-sponge, a racquetball wall.

While staring up at the elegant house before me, I strained my eyes to look through the windows hoping I could catch a glimpse of the man, harboring an unrealistic hope that he would come out to meet us. When we went inside to tour, goosebumps rose to the surface of my skin, for the thrill of being in the same building as my hero was overwhelming.

I wish I could recapture some of that enthusiasm I had for DC back then, but that is what happens when you become familiar with something. I can agree with much of what is written on why.i.hate.dc, though I wouldn't say I hate DC; I just need a break from it. If I get that break, I will return when progressive-minded folk roam the city's streets instead of the cardboard cutout silver-spooned GOP brats and arrogant policymaking bastards who drink from its watering holes these days. (Sorry, I'm just a bit tired of DC these days.)

To be continued after I see Clinton on Faux News...