How Much Do Juno About the Caucus?

Oh my goodness. Here I was, thinking that Ray and I were the lone Democrats in Williamson County--a veritable oasis in a desert of wire-tapping, war-pushing, airport-restrooming Republicans. But the Democratic Party of Precinct 423 reeled in a group of 84 voters. Not too bad for suburbia.

We waited in line ahead of three old Republicans who were there to caucus for Hillary (that is, against Obama). Over a pack of smokes, they complained to one another that "purty soon, you won't even be able to smoke in your car," and one wondered aloud in which unthinkable state it is that you're not allowed to smoke in your car while carrying children. The mouthiest of the three, a crusty woman in her 60s who will henceforth be referred to as "Old Smokey", added, "I'm not prejudiced or anything, but I just have a bad feeling about that Obama."

It was held in the preschool Sunday School room of a local church, a portable building, which meant the room contained chairs that were just big enough for Barbie. The north side of the building smelled of B.O., while the south side stank with the unmistakable smell of onion rings. There were a few adult chairs, and when two came available, I suggested that we take them. Always a Boy Scout, Ray chivalrously noted that there were some elderly people in the room who might enjoy taking a seat instead. "You know who they'll vote for," I whispered sternly. "Tire them out and they'll leave."

We sat.

The procedure was to sign in and indicate your candidate preference next to your name. After a while, the precinct captain announced that Obama had 55% of the support to Clinton's 43% (2 people were uncommitted--not sure why you'd go to a caucus), and we would be electing 12 delegates to attend the Williamson County convention.

The crowd was pretty diverse. There was a nearly equal number of blacks and whites, a handful of Hispanics (I actually would have expected more because our neighborhood is mainly Hispanic), and one woman who might have been Muslim, though it was impossible to know for sure. Many brought their children along, which I liked. There was also a seemingly wide range economically. This was in "stark contrast to the KKK meeting next door on the Republican side", Ray noted.

Old Smokey had a suggestion for the precinct captain every step of the way. (I guess "not being prejudiced" really motivates a person to participate.) When the time came to vote on the 12 delegates, she announced that all the candidates should stand up in the front for her to see, so she could know everyone's gender and race, because she could "tell by looking at them who they're for." Naturally, this pissed off most of the room, but she remained undaunted. I loudly called out that she was "superficial" while pretending that we hadn't been guessing people's votes in the line earlier.

Ray and I both ran for delegate, along with a coworker of mine who had come for Clinton. Apparently, being a teacher is a crowd-pleaser, because she and I were both elected as delegates, and Ray as an alternate. Plus we are all white, so we could count on Old Smokey's vote.

After that came the time to vote on certain resolutions. At this point, Old Smokey had had enough democracy for one evening and called it a night. But on her way out the door, she actually had the guts to interrupt the proceedings and make a "moving" speech about voting for the person instead of along party lines. (You know, such as a white male person.)

The resolutions discussion was a pretty enjoyable part of the night for me, as I love nothing more than to argue with those who already agree with me. Ray, who hadn't eaten dinner beforehand, was slightly less energized, but humored me kindly and agreed to stay until I decided it was my bedtime at 10:00 (hey, I'm old). I chimed in on issues such as voter ID regulations (they disenfranchise), teachers' lack of Social Security income (unfair), workers' right to unionize (for it), and universal healthcare (free appendectomies, anybody?).

It was unlike anything I've had the pleasure of experiencing in Texas. In Hungary, if you don't like something the government does, you can go overturn a phone booth, storm Parliament, or light something on fire. (Usually all three.) In the USA, the ire is somehow dampered by the fact that we have our overly busy lives to tend to, and--unfortunately--don't always have time for that. But this caucus was the refreshing, rare experience of meeting with others who are wholly dissatisfied with the status quo, appalled at the self-serving policies and self-righteous beliefs of the Republican party, and are ready to smoke their asses in November.

If there were another caucus tonight, I'd go do it again.