Casual Lunch, Bring Guests

-by Douglas Kahn

 I'm going to plan lunch, and I want you to come by. I'll let you know, but my thought is November 11th on the National Mall in Washington. That would make it one year exactly since everything changed. I'm going to explain why we need to get together, so please keep reading. [Forgive me for going on and on; I'm trying to learn how to make it snappy.] 

If someone rings your doorbell, and you knew it's a candidate for Congress, do you want to open the door? I always came away from a day of precinct walking thinking that most of the people I talked to were annoyed at first. Early on I made a point of trying to read faces, and I saw mild aggravation. But people don't keep that up.
 
Imagine yourself at home, doing your own thing: 

1. Your day never has more than 24 hours in it. You never think "I have more than enough time for my own interests, my family, and my friends, so I need to give my time to people I don't know."

2. Your doorbell rings; someone is demanding your time, and you're annoyed.  

3. You recognize your annoyed reaction as an immediate feeling, not a reasoned analysis. You aren't particularly proud of it, but perceive it would be incredibly difficult to become the person who is happy to get unsolicited visitors.  

4. Opening the door, you recognize I'm a human being, very much like you. [That's what people think, or they suspend their skepticism, anyway.]  

5. I say "Hi. My name is Doug Kahn, and I'm running for Congress. I'd like to find out what you think about some important issues, if you have the time. If you don't, can I give you this brochure that explains what I'm trying to do?"  

6. You, like most people, find that you actually do have the time to talk for a while, and sometimes for a long, long while.
 
7. We shake hands and I leave. You're not thinking of any specific reason for it, but you're glad you got up and came to the door. You know it's really unlikely, but it's possible that you, I, everyone may end up benefitting from the two of us conversing. You've done your bit.
 
8. Later you think, "He has to know it's annoying to get solicitors. He was wrong on certain issues, but at least he showed up."
 
I showed up. You don't know me, but you have a grudging respect. The word 'grudging' is appropriate. Your respect is valuable and has to be earned; a five minute visit from a candidate shouldn't do it. Almost in spite of yourself, you end up with a positive attitude about my effort, you'd like to help out, probably just by voting. If the other guy shows up, you might rethink things. But no matter how many tv spots or political mailers oppose me, they won't reduce the weight of the personal visit. 

I visited a lot of people, but only a tiny percentage of the 95,000 voters I needed to win the House seat. [84,000 was as many votes as I ever got.] Figuring 5 minutes per visit, I'd need 475,000 minutes, or 990 8-hour days, almost 3 solid years, to reach that many people personally. And I'd have to convince every single person to go to the polls, and to vote my way. Precinct walking is a statement of conviction, and it motivates a lot of people to show up too, to volunteer, make phone calls, distribute literature. 

Barack Obama didn't ring my doorbell, or yours either. But the '50 State Strategy' wasn't just a strategy, it was also a statement. It said that no matter what state I lived in, he wanted to ring my doorbell and talk to me, and although he didn't have the time for that, just to show me he meant business he was going to spend millions of dollars on media and organizing in my state, even if he had virtually no chance of winning the electoral votes.
 
In Florida, a must-win state where I live now, we saw a full-blown Obama campaign: offices and paid staffers and so many tv ads that I had them memorized. The 50 state strategy meant Obama thought that our neighbors, Alabamians, were important people too, and I liked that. I also spend time in Arizona. Obama wasn't going to win McCain's state, but he thought we were worth the effort anyway, and I liked that too. Obama showed up. 

I went out and voted. But I've gotten too relaxed since then. During the 2008 campaign I agreed we'd have to figure out how to get health care for everyone in this country. Is there anyone out there who isn't paying attention to Obama and Congress disputing this thing? I find myself thinking, "we elected these people to do the job, so what's the deal, why aren't they doing it?" I (and tens of thousands of other people) have made phone calls and written emails and contributed to progressive politicians (and against the Blue Dog Democrats gumming up the works). Now I've started to examine myself a bit—it wasn't Yes You (Obama) Can or Yes They (Congress) Can. I signed on to Yes We Can.

Well, We have a problem. Do you (like me) resent the fact that the anti-reform screamers get so much attention? The thing is, they show up. And no matter how right we are, no matter how convincing our arguments are, no matter how many phone calls we make or how much mouse-click money we contribute to progressives, it can't erase this fact: they – show – up.  

Sure, if you look at the numbers, there's only a few of them and a lot of us. But many members of Congress perceive that the wingnuts, corporate flunkies and the people they've manipulated with lies exist in real space, and we exist in virtual space. Congress exists in Washington, and I say we have to show up.
 
It wasn't just Barack Obama who promised 45 million people that he could get them affordable health care. Or who promised that he could discipline the bean counters at United Health Care (and the other insurance monsters). We did. Yes, we can do it, was what we said.
 
We said it because we believe it's our responsibility to watch out for tens of millions of people, many tens of millions, who don't have the juice to move the levers of power in this country. I think we said we would do whatever it takes to for chrissakes at least get them and their kids adequate health care. 

And we are going to do that, aren't we?