How Howard Got My Groove Back
I'm living in a hotel in downtown London. No, not one of those hotels, but a hotel just the same. The blankets have holes from cigarette burns, the toilet runs at odd and random times, and the London Hospital Linen Supply Sheets barely cover the mattress. And, I kid you not, a tiny mouse just crawled out of the baseboard heater, scurried across the floor and underneath the bed.
Of course, all of this will be worth it once Megan is elected to parliament on November 27th (we're at E-17 as of tomorrow). And what a time we're having ensuring that becomes a reality.
Our campaign office is located in the part of London colloquially referred to as EOA - East of Adelaide. It's the rough and tumble part of town, but since I first began taking in Indie rock shows at the Embassy when I was still in high school, it's always been the part of the city with the most appeal for me. Well, at least the most soul. It's gritty, but it's honest, and I would take that over the South London Sprawl any day.
Across the street from the office is the slowest Tim Horton's on the planet. It was also the site of a light-gay bashing while I was in university. I say "light" because my friend and I weren't physically injured, but there were a pair of gentlemen who, after throwing bits of their doughnuts at us while we were chatting at a nearby table, followed us into the parking lot, uttered some words that would upset the mother of any fag, and then proceeded to follow us in their car. Not one of my more cherished London memories, to be sure.
Now, back to the campaign: Over the past few days, I've spent a good deal of time phone and foot canvassing. Yes, I've been that guy that calls you just as you're sitting down to dinner to ask who you might be supporting in the election. And while it takes a bit of coaxing to get me into it, I actually kind of like the experience. It's an opportunity, however brief, to have a small bit of political dialogue with complete strangers, the large majority of whom are as respectful as I endeavour to be.
I find this is most often the case with seniors, a constituency I have little interaction with in my day-to-day life. In almost all cases, I present my case (i.e. - why Megan Walker should be the next MP for London North Centre) and they hear me out. Then they respond. While many seniors seem to keep this info to themselves, some will share their views, whether they agree with mine or not. All of this under the guise of civility. Yesterday, for example, I spoke with a former member of the local Conservative riding association. After my pitch, he told me who he was and what followed was a frank conversation about the various candidates and the campaign in general. He ended our conversation by noting Megan is a strong candidate and wishing our team well in the race.
That small interaction came to mind last night as I watched Democratic National Committee chair Howard Dean on the Daily Show. I don't have much to say about Dean or the Democrats' sweep to power in the House and Senate, but one thing he said caught my attention and helped re-tune me to the importance of this by-election as a lightning rod for the current state of politics in Canada. Dean said, and this isn't quite a direct quote: It is out of respect that you ask someone for their vote.
One can never be too sure how another person plans to vote until they ask them, and it's both easy and lazy to assume that people are so rigid in their beliefs that their loyalties may not change. So it's back to the phones and the doorsteps for me, we've got a candidate to elect.
____________
A postscript
The most frustrating part of my day: Driving to other side of the city to exchange my BC driver's licence for an Ontario one, only to learn - despite checking the Ministry of Transportation Website first - that my old driver's licence and health card are not sufficient pieces of ID. To make matters even more infuriating, when I complained that the Website could be more specific about the type of ID required for such a process, the lady at the counter said, "That's not our website, we're privatized." As if that would make me feel any better. For those keeping tabs at home, in the parking lot, I said to myself for the first time since moving here:"I fucking hate Ontario! I just want to move back to BC."
Of course, all of this will be worth it once Megan is elected to parliament on November 27th (we're at E-17 as of tomorrow). And what a time we're having ensuring that becomes a reality.
Our campaign office is located in the part of London colloquially referred to as EOA - East of Adelaide. It's the rough and tumble part of town, but since I first began taking in Indie rock shows at the Embassy when I was still in high school, it's always been the part of the city with the most appeal for me. Well, at least the most soul. It's gritty, but it's honest, and I would take that over the South London Sprawl any day.
Across the street from the office is the slowest Tim Horton's on the planet. It was also the site of a light-gay bashing while I was in university. I say "light" because my friend and I weren't physically injured, but there were a pair of gentlemen who, after throwing bits of their doughnuts at us while we were chatting at a nearby table, followed us into the parking lot, uttered some words that would upset the mother of any fag, and then proceeded to follow us in their car. Not one of my more cherished London memories, to be sure.
Now, back to the campaign: Over the past few days, I've spent a good deal of time phone and foot canvassing. Yes, I've been that guy that calls you just as you're sitting down to dinner to ask who you might be supporting in the election. And while it takes a bit of coaxing to get me into it, I actually kind of like the experience. It's an opportunity, however brief, to have a small bit of political dialogue with complete strangers, the large majority of whom are as respectful as I endeavour to be.
I find this is most often the case with seniors, a constituency I have little interaction with in my day-to-day life. In almost all cases, I present my case (i.e. - why Megan Walker should be the next MP for London North Centre) and they hear me out. Then they respond. While many seniors seem to keep this info to themselves, some will share their views, whether they agree with mine or not. All of this under the guise of civility. Yesterday, for example, I spoke with a former member of the local Conservative riding association. After my pitch, he told me who he was and what followed was a frank conversation about the various candidates and the campaign in general. He ended our conversation by noting Megan is a strong candidate and wishing our team well in the race.
That small interaction came to mind last night as I watched Democratic National Committee chair Howard Dean on the Daily Show. I don't have much to say about Dean or the Democrats' sweep to power in the House and Senate, but one thing he said caught my attention and helped re-tune me to the importance of this by-election as a lightning rod for the current state of politics in Canada. Dean said, and this isn't quite a direct quote: It is out of respect that you ask someone for their vote.
One can never be too sure how another person plans to vote until they ask them, and it's both easy and lazy to assume that people are so rigid in their beliefs that their loyalties may not change. So it's back to the phones and the doorsteps for me, we've got a candidate to elect.
____________
A postscript
The most frustrating part of my day: Driving to other side of the city to exchange my BC driver's licence for an Ontario one, only to learn - despite checking the Ministry of Transportation Website first - that my old driver's licence and health card are not sufficient pieces of ID. To make matters even more infuriating, when I complained that the Website could be more specific about the type of ID required for such a process, the lady at the counter said, "That's not our website, we're privatized." As if that would make me feel any better. For those keeping tabs at home, in the parking lot, I said to myself for the first time since moving here:"I fucking hate Ontario! I just want to move back to BC."
posted by Capital Letters at 11:27 PM
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