All Politics Is Loco

Tonight, I took my father to a meeting of the Plumstead Township Democratic Committee. Quite the packed agenda. We heard from candidates vying for the support of the party for Pennsylvania Assembly in the 143 District and United States Congress for the 8th Pennsylvania Congressional District.

It was pretty scarey. Most of the folks were pretty nice. But there sure were some cranks. Whether it's the West 10th Street Block Association in Greenwich Village, Community Board #3 on the Lower East Side, or a coalitions of people of transgendered experience working for passage of an inclusive civil rights bill in New York State, there's gotta be cranks. Politics attracts them like sharks to chum.

A woman who would be our candidate for Assembly opened up her comments by saying, "I want you all to see this!" and with a flourish held up her pocketbook. There was a moment or two of uneasy silence, as all of us tried to gauge whether she was perhaps inviting an evaluation of her fashion choices. Her pocketbook was obviously pleather, but nicely unadorned. Alas, it wasn't a good match for her scuffed white Avias, but I did give her points for her nifty scarf. But, it turned out that she wanted to show us that she carried with her voters registration forms so she could harrass her fellow shoppers at the supermarket.

And then there was a guy who was a Republican a few months ago. Now, he's asking for our support as a Democrat. His rationale for running seems to be an elaborate conspiracy theory involving what the "Republican Machine" is up to in the lower end of the county. When asked about his stances on issues of national import such as the Patriot act, he referred us to his literature, although he didn't have any with him (at an endorsement meeting) and would have to "get it" to us. Since pocketbook woman (inadvertently) put fashion choices on the table, I couldn't help but note that conspiracy theorist was dressed in his "I'm A Kook!" best, wearing Dickie pants, a shiny black polyester rollneck sweater, and a cheap polyester sports jacket of an indeterminate shade of blue that must have taken some hunting in the seedier thrift shops since not even K-Mart sells crappy threads like that anymore.

Be that as it may, there was a guy running against the woman with the pocketbook that I couldn't help but take notice of. He's smart, works in marketing, and seems to have put in a lot of work revitalizing the party locally. He was wearing chinos (pleated, alas), a perfectly pressed shirt, a natty sports jacket, and a Christian Dior tie that I would be glad to own.

So I was toying with the idea of working for him. Sitting there at the meeting, I had a few ideas that might resonate with voters here in the 143rd. (Free tuition for children of farm families at state universities; a provision in state law whereby local townships and municipalities can devise their own re-zoning plans thus giving control back to the people; a preservation initiative to keep the unique and wonderful architectural venacular from going; reintroduction of the timber wolf; okay, maybe not bringing back the wolves...) I'll think about it. it could be fun. And give me something to occupy my time between now and November.

So, y'know... something to think about.

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