The last time I wore something promoting a live actual candidate, I was probably 11? I’m hoping but not very hopeful that Styrofoam skimmers are a thing of the past. Tomorrow, I attend the 45th Legislative District Caucus, the most intensely partisan political event I’ve ever attended. I don’t DO party politics. I stopped allying with political parties before I could vote. And I could vote only after turning 18 in 1971 dammit. (And I still remember heading down to New London’s City Hall to do so. I was a year younger than most of my classmates who got to register en masse on campus. It was also the first time I ever affirmed something since I don’t swear to things and I don’t like using bibles.

I’ve remarked on my early memory of my parents as precinct members, getting out the vote. In memory, the sheets and sheets of paper with names/addresses on them to record who voted were taped to the walls of our rec room, so mom and dad could call and offer those who hadn’t voted yet, a ride to the polls, or a reminder to vote. Growing up in Connecticut meant voting machines with party levers.

My involvement will end here, most likely. I put my hand up that day thinking “what the hell, it’s a Saturday” and thinking while I have the time and energy, so many others don’t. so yeah, I really was trying to be unselfish and give working people a day off. Maybe their idea of fun is attending a district caucus. I have no idea. I’m thinking “six hours of raising my hand”, while sitting in distinctly uncomfortable chairs”. I thought about offering to go to the next step, for, again, the same reason. I have time, I have no day job, I have no kids who need to be taken care of on the weekends. But I sort of forgot how simply sitting exhausts me. The wheelchair doesn’t exist yet. The scooter is not meant for all-day sitting and we’re at a high school, for godsake. High schools are not designed with ergonomic seating options for 3000 people. I’d be nuts to keep going. The guy on KUOW this morning informed listeners that the last week in March here was the coldest since they began keeping records in the 1940s. I’ve been popping “breakthrough pain” Vicodins (some halfs, some wholes) off and on for weeks since my low back has been horrible despite the Oxycontin I take every 8 hours. What was I thinking? I can’t sit all day when I’m having FUN, for godsake! We did lunch/museum and brunch/Moisture Festival last weekend and oh gods, was I tired.

Happily, one of the emails that came from the coordinator guy coordinating the 46th Districts delegates provided lists of those offering to attend the next level. I’m actually gonna try to print them out tonight. I guess I have to vote for them. There are 2 lists, M and F because the powers that be want equal representation. I know I saw one person who has worked for Wellstone and Bradley, and she probably has my vote.

So we’re on to the big decisions. What to bring and what to wear. We gotta bring water. The notice advised that the water fountains at the high school will be off. We gotta bring lunch, even though someone might be selling snacks (oh please let there be an espresso cart. This is, after all, still Seattle.) We’ve been asked to bring stuff for a food drive. Very Seattle, but I’m sure very Democrat as well. You know this is the worst time of year for food banks, and they’re getting used more and more and more with the economy being so sucky.

Finally we get to “what does one wear to one’s Legislative District caucus? Do we wear the ever popular “Regime Change Begins at Home” tee-shirt? The “Somewhere in Texas, a village is Missing an Idiot” short? We might see some of those and one does want so to wear appropriate politics. Right now, I’m leaning toward the Victoria Woodhull tee-shirt picked up off the Woodhull website (hey, they’re on sale right now. $6.99 at http://victoria-woodhull.com/shophere.htm).

One must then contemplate finding the peace necklace (I have several. The newspaper informs me that it’s the anniversary of the peace sign. The article failed to inform me of the true history of the design, at least as I had learned it from the “nuclear disarmament” semaphore signals (that part was cut from our newspaper’s wire service coverage) (imagine my surprise) but at least it’s getting out there in the news. According to one website, the sign was brought over to the US from Britain, where it began by Bayard Rustin. If you don’t know who that is, please learn. We owe so much to this man who has never gotten his rightful place in the history of the civil rights and peace movements. Here's a place to start. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayard_Rustin

Buttons. Oh gods. I only have like a few hours to pick my buttons! Whatever shall I do?

Some people fuss over wardrobes for job interviews, attending the opera, award ceremonies, dinner out. Me? I spend hours debating which pin for which lapel, and which of my several dozen buttons to wear on my several jackets over one of my several dozen tee shirts. Low fashion.

*Happy Birthday Dear Peace Sign