huck

Got a haircut.

It’s unforgivably anachronistic and tacky, but you have to give the people in the Austin Ventures building credit for trying…

Here’s my award-winning* recipe:

- Over a big glass of ice…
- Juice of 1/2 lime
- Dash of kosher salt
- Dash of freshly ground black pepper
- Squirt of Sriracha Hot Sauce
- Lil’ Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce
- Lil’ Tabasco
- 4 oz. Clamato
- 4 oz. V8
- 1 bottle Negro Modelo

Garnish with straw.

* does not indicate the actual winning of any awards

Upon returning to Austin, having had a bit of time to reflect, I have to say that volunteering for the Obama campaign – even for just a weekend – was the most rewarding thing I’ve done in years, and it wasn’t just the electric camaraderie with other volunteers and voters that are excited about the possibility of new direction for this country, if not human civilization as a whole…

It was on the second day of canvassing that I was met at the door by a woman whom I introduced myself to in the same way as I had so many other houses: “Hi! My name is Josh, and I’m with the Barack Obama Campaign for Change.  I came down this weekend from Austin to spread the word that early voting has started in New Mexico.  Have you decided on a candidate? Perhaps have some questions you’d like to ask about Obama?”  Immediately, she responded, “OH YES!  My husband and I DO have some questions!  I’m so glad you’re here, come in!!!”  I was promptly invited inside, sat down at a breakfast table, and offered a bacon and egg sandwich.  “MIKE!” she called down the hall, “There’s a man here from the Obama campaign that’s going to answer our questions!”

Mike sauntered in, a middle-aged, salt-and-pepper grizzly bear of a man, clearly amused and accustomed to his wife’s exuberance.  Wanda, his chickadee, explained to me that she and Mike were avid hunters and that they were dismayed by some incendiary mailers that had been arriving in the post saying that Obama was planning on raising the price on their guns and ammo.  Glancing into their living room, I suddenly noticed the menagerie of small-to-medium stuffed animals decorating the chamber.  Fox, racoon, lynx, quail, etc.  I explained that Barack Obama respects the 2nd Amendment, and as long as he’s president – unless you’re trying to purchase AK-47s and grenade launchers, there would be no hitches in your future hunting expeditions.

Through answering some delicate questions about BO’s stance on late-term abortions (he’s for legislation banning the procedure, with an exception for the health of the mother), I got to speak from the heart about my own experiences growing up as the child of conservative parents, and the journey we’d all made to understand each other, meeting in the middle on some highly contentious issues.  I threw in some anecdotes about my father’s family in Missouri – a swing state, too – and our hunting history.  Being Native American, Mike and Wanda were also interested to hear that Obama is a long-time supporter of increased tribal autonomy and funding for initiatives such as education and alcohol abuse prevention programs on reservations.  They were impressed, to say the least.

“Well, I’m convinced.  You can put us both down for Obama,” Wanda chirped at the end of our forum.  Mike nodded and grinned appreciatively.

As I waved goodbye and went on to the next house, I had to pause, suprised at a wave of emotion that swept over me.  It’s such a personal thing, to be face-to-face with someone’s convictions, even if in disagreement.  To be invited into a home, and sit down with people who understand the importance of their voice, even in the midst of millions of others.  I saw something this weekend first-hand that I had taken for granted in my studies, in all the statistics I’ve consumed over the years, and in all the articles I’ve read.  I remember reading a quote from a National Geographic many years ago where a researcher was commenting on our propensity to generalize about humans, “You can’t look at this as an anthill.  These are real people we’re talking about,” he implored.  It’s not until you walk from door to door, smelling the scent of air fresheners and meals cooking, some faces friendly and some wary, lambasted by dogs barking or complete silence, glancing at messy living rooms from huge familes or sparsely furnished bachelor pads, that you are forced to return to that obvious truth.  All the fear, hope, anger, confusion, mistrust, elation, and skepticism teeming behind each face.  I was humbled to be given the chance to understand it a bit better, and address it if given that opportunity, understanding how sacred a thing it is to stand at that threshold.

Just a few examples of the fan-art at the Albuquerque Obama HQ…

My favorite?  Obama shooting sonic hope-and-change lasers from his bare hands.