It's budget time - my first experience of this process - and so far it hasn't been any fun. We have about $5 million and change to cut from the combined departmental budgets, and it seems that most, perhaps all, of the fat has been cut in the previous three or four years of the recession. Departments have been reorganizing and streamlining, and committees have been pretty vigilant regarding new or unnecessary spending.
The recovery has been slow, but it is a recovery, and economy-dependent revenues are increasing slowly. Our fund balance (sort of a complex savings account) is strong, relative to many other similar counties, and within generally accepted guidelines. And in a couple of years, the Manor's annual deficit - coincidentally, about the same as the amount we have to cut right now - may be resolved.
But right now, we have to cut a lot of spending (and maybe project a little higher revenue), enough that most programs will be closely scrutinized and we will be asking, "Should Otsego County be in the business of doing this particular thing?" all over the budget. I'm in the midst of going through the two-inch-thick budget proposal line by line, preparing a report for the Chair regarding anything I've found that might be reduced or eliminated. The other 13 Reps are in the midst of the same thing.
Any ideas you might have, let me know.
I'm Gary Koutnik, the Otsego County Representative from District 11 (Wards 1 and 2 in the City of Oneonta). This blog is an opportunity for me to communicate with the voters in my District, and others who are interested in Otsego County issues. Enjoy!
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Last DNC Post
...more chaotic than I thought. No sign of the notes.
But they were just a list of the themes of the convention speeches, which you could deduce pretty easily, even if you only listened to a few. Forward, not back. Better together. The list of accomplishments from the last three and a half years, which is rather long. That kind of thing.
And I'm still really tired. Long hours of intense focus, a significant shift in sleep cycle, lots of walking and uncertainty, two days of driving (and I worked all day today). I need to go to sleep.
So - thanks for following the great DNC adventure. Would I do it again? I don't know. The fact that it's largely - almost entirely - a spectator sport was disappointing. But the electricity in the arena, the sense of presence and completeness, the energy and excitement and noise and passion which didn't come through on the television - that was pretty great. Being part of history: priceless. So we'll see.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled Otsego11 weblog posts, which will resume shortly.
But they were just a list of the themes of the convention speeches, which you could deduce pretty easily, even if you only listened to a few. Forward, not back. Better together. The list of accomplishments from the last three and a half years, which is rather long. That kind of thing.
And I'm still really tired. Long hours of intense focus, a significant shift in sleep cycle, lots of walking and uncertainty, two days of driving (and I worked all day today). I need to go to sleep.
So - thanks for following the great DNC adventure. Would I do it again? I don't know. The fact that it's largely - almost entirely - a spectator sport was disappointing. But the electricity in the arena, the sense of presence and completeness, the energy and excitement and noise and passion which didn't come through on the television - that was pretty great. Being part of history: priceless. So we'll see.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled Otsego11 weblog posts, which will resume shortly.
Eating and partying
It's nice to be home.
The storms that swept through the northeast yesterday delayed me, and made the last 80 miles or so of the trip a grueling challenge, so I haven't gotten re-organized yet. The notes are still in the suitcase.
In talking with Abbey, a few interesting non-political aspects of the convention experience came up.
I had heard about the non-stop partying that goes on at conventions, and I was curious to see whether that was true. Not so I could attend; for me, a party is a noisy place where you wander around for a while not being able to hear anybody, and then you leave. But - is this true at all? Is party networking the whole point of conventions?
Not that I could determine. Or maybe it is, for the cognoscenti, but not for the average delegate. I received notice of two parties, the reception I wrote about on the first night, and another one on Wednesday night, hosted by the mid-Atlantic state delegations, after the general session. "After the general session" on Wednesday meant after 1AM, as that was the night of the roll call vote. No thanks.
So - I'm sure there were other get-togethers, but I didn't hear about them, before or after. Evenings were pretty full.
When I arrived in Charlotte, I had no idea of where I would eat throughout the week. However, I had heard enough about the endless food and drink at conventions that I thought I 'd try to get through the week without paying for any meal. It worked, but not really well.
My hotel had a hot breakfast, so that was a start. As it turned out, there was a sit-down, good-china breakfast each day in that tent I described earlier, at another of the NY delegation hotels. So far so good. There was a hospitality room at that same hotel, with hot food and drink all afternoon and evening. But that didn't help much, because I was at the caucuses and general sessions in the afternoon and evenings.
So lunch/dinner resembled our family's traditional traveling lunches: a bagel or two wrapped up from breakfast, stashed in the backpack. There weren't many places to get something to eat in downtown Charlotte; in 'the bubble,' where vehicles were prohibited, many stores and restaurants were closed. There was a small food court in the Convention Center, and that was it. Where did everyone else eat?
More soon, I promise.
The storms that swept through the northeast yesterday delayed me, and made the last 80 miles or so of the trip a grueling challenge, so I haven't gotten re-organized yet. The notes are still in the suitcase.
In talking with Abbey, a few interesting non-political aspects of the convention experience came up.
I had heard about the non-stop partying that goes on at conventions, and I was curious to see whether that was true. Not so I could attend; for me, a party is a noisy place where you wander around for a while not being able to hear anybody, and then you leave. But - is this true at all? Is party networking the whole point of conventions?
Not that I could determine. Or maybe it is, for the cognoscenti, but not for the average delegate. I received notice of two parties, the reception I wrote about on the first night, and another one on Wednesday night, hosted by the mid-Atlantic state delegations, after the general session. "After the general session" on Wednesday meant after 1AM, as that was the night of the roll call vote. No thanks.
So - I'm sure there were other get-togethers, but I didn't hear about them, before or after. Evenings were pretty full.
When I arrived in Charlotte, I had no idea of where I would eat throughout the week. However, I had heard enough about the endless food and drink at conventions that I thought I 'd try to get through the week without paying for any meal. It worked, but not really well.
My hotel had a hot breakfast, so that was a start. As it turned out, there was a sit-down, good-china breakfast each day in that tent I described earlier, at another of the NY delegation hotels. So far so good. There was a hospitality room at that same hotel, with hot food and drink all afternoon and evening. But that didn't help much, because I was at the caucuses and general sessions in the afternoon and evenings.
So lunch/dinner resembled our family's traditional traveling lunches: a bagel or two wrapped up from breakfast, stashed in the backpack. There weren't many places to get something to eat in downtown Charlotte; in 'the bubble,' where vehicles were prohibited, many stores and restaurants were closed. There was a small food court in the Convention Center, and that was it. Where did everyone else eat?
More soon, I promise.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Saturday morning thoughts
Almost home.
I wanted to lay out the themes of the convention - which were very evident, repeated in nearly every speech - but my notes are, apparently, in the suitcase which, by now, is pure chaos. So I'll do that tonight.
Meanwhile: I wrote about political hierarchy, and the more I looked, the more I saw it. Thursday night's speech was moved to a much smaller venue, for good reason: I got soaked late in the afternoon and it rained later on, too. I know that politics can be the art of distraction and misdirection, but there were no hidden agendas regarding the move: it rained every day in Charlotte this week, including Thursday.
But the move meant that a seat at the event became a very rare and valuable thing. When I got to the arena that night, I discovered those "reserved" signs on most of the chairs in the NY section. They were for all the NY Democratic dignitaries (mostly non-delegates) who had come down to see the speech. We lower ranking not-so-dignified delegates ended up sitting in the Alabama section next door, where I sat next to a journalist from Virgina. Go figure.
There was also a hierarchy of dress, at least among men (women's fashion is way beyond me). You start with the guys with Hawaiian shirts, or polo shirts, and khakis or shorts (hardly any jeans at all). Then you might add movement or issue t-shirts, mostly involving unions. Then the button down shirts without ties, and then my category, the button-down shirts with ties.
Then there were the suits - black, or so dark you can't tell the difference. It was hot in Charlotte, and it rained. Wearing a dark suit with a jacket meant your were going to be uncomfortable. I wore a sports jacket (with my Otsego County pin!) the first night, and it was a mistake I did not repeat. So those suits were important symbols to the wearers, who were willing to make certain sacrifices to be seen in them. The suit guys were in three categories: young guys, who I thought were probably interns; older guys, who were aides and functionaries, and even older guys, who were the luminaries (Congressmen, Senators, House Speakers, Governor, etc.). I wonder if it's worth it?
Anyway, one of the themes of the convention, which I'll lay out later, was "We're all in this together," or, as was posted on the stage backdrop, "Better Together." Here's an interesting essay about this.
See you soon.
I wanted to lay out the themes of the convention - which were very evident, repeated in nearly every speech - but my notes are, apparently, in the suitcase which, by now, is pure chaos. So I'll do that tonight.
Meanwhile: I wrote about political hierarchy, and the more I looked, the more I saw it. Thursday night's speech was moved to a much smaller venue, for good reason: I got soaked late in the afternoon and it rained later on, too. I know that politics can be the art of distraction and misdirection, but there were no hidden agendas regarding the move: it rained every day in Charlotte this week, including Thursday.
But the move meant that a seat at the event became a very rare and valuable thing. When I got to the arena that night, I discovered those "reserved" signs on most of the chairs in the NY section. They were for all the NY Democratic dignitaries (mostly non-delegates) who had come down to see the speech. We lower ranking not-so-dignified delegates ended up sitting in the Alabama section next door, where I sat next to a journalist from Virgina. Go figure.
There was also a hierarchy of dress, at least among men (women's fashion is way beyond me). You start with the guys with Hawaiian shirts, or polo shirts, and khakis or shorts (hardly any jeans at all). Then you might add movement or issue t-shirts, mostly involving unions. Then the button down shirts without ties, and then my category, the button-down shirts with ties.
Then there were the suits - black, or so dark you can't tell the difference. It was hot in Charlotte, and it rained. Wearing a dark suit with a jacket meant your were going to be uncomfortable. I wore a sports jacket (with my Otsego County pin!) the first night, and it was a mistake I did not repeat. So those suits were important symbols to the wearers, who were willing to make certain sacrifices to be seen in them. The suit guys were in three categories: young guys, who I thought were probably interns; older guys, who were aides and functionaries, and even older guys, who were the luminaries (Congressmen, Senators, House Speakers, Governor, etc.). I wonder if it's worth it?
Anyway, one of the themes of the convention, which I'll lay out later, was "We're all in this together," or, as was posted on the stage backdrop, "Better Together." Here's an interesting essay about this.
See you soon.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Friday morning
Well, it's over.
I figure I've listened to nearly 100 speeches over nearly 20 hours. On TV this morning, there were videos of workers removing the miles of barriers, and cars driving down avenues that had been blocked off and heavily guarded as late as last night. The big NY delegation tent is already down. We're in casual clothes this morning (except for a Sikh delegate from NYC who is, as usual, impeccable in a well-tailored suit). The conversation is about flight times; we're already pointed at the rest of our lives.
I have to say that I was disappointed in the President's speech last night. It seemed to be boilerplate; he seemed to be phoning it in. He's comfortable with wonky analysis, and that's what we got. We'd heard each point a dozen times, sometimes with a more compelling presentation. There wasn't really anything new or exciting for us to take home with us. But (speaking of wonky analysis) he may have been speaking to the TV audience, most of whom have tuned in to their only (or one of their three or four) speeches of the convention, and haven't heard it all before.
Luckily, Vice President Joe Biden did give an exceptional speech. He was able to speak eloquently and personally about the President, drawing us in with quiet, authentic emotion. It was compelling and affecting, and most important, I felt I had an intimate understanding of how the President has faced the last four difficult years.
Also memorable were former Michigan Governor Jennifer Granholm and Representative John Lewis, one of the original Freedom Riders, whose profound moral authority was a highlight of the night for me. John Kerry got some revenge for the shameful way his service was treated in 2004. And Gabby Giffords led us in the Pledge of Allegiance. She could have read the phone book and brought the house down.
Speaking of moral authority, I think that's what this convention was about. Do what's right, play fair, work hard, support each other, share the American dream. That was the message. Also, the notion that the other side has little to offer in this realm. You can buy that or not, but that's what happened this week.
I've got to get home. Two days of driving through some gorgeous county. In the next couple of days I'll be posting about convention odds and ends that I wasn't able to find time for during the hectic and uncertain schedule this week. So check back, and talk back in Comments.
See you on the road.
I figure I've listened to nearly 100 speeches over nearly 20 hours. On TV this morning, there were videos of workers removing the miles of barriers, and cars driving down avenues that had been blocked off and heavily guarded as late as last night. The big NY delegation tent is already down. We're in casual clothes this morning (except for a Sikh delegate from NYC who is, as usual, impeccable in a well-tailored suit). The conversation is about flight times; we're already pointed at the rest of our lives.
I have to say that I was disappointed in the President's speech last night. It seemed to be boilerplate; he seemed to be phoning it in. He's comfortable with wonky analysis, and that's what we got. We'd heard each point a dozen times, sometimes with a more compelling presentation. There wasn't really anything new or exciting for us to take home with us. But (speaking of wonky analysis) he may have been speaking to the TV audience, most of whom have tuned in to their only (or one of their three or four) speeches of the convention, and haven't heard it all before.
Luckily, Vice President Joe Biden did give an exceptional speech. He was able to speak eloquently and personally about the President, drawing us in with quiet, authentic emotion. It was compelling and affecting, and most important, I felt I had an intimate understanding of how the President has faced the last four difficult years.
Also memorable were former Michigan Governor Jennifer Granholm and Representative John Lewis, one of the original Freedom Riders, whose profound moral authority was a highlight of the night for me. John Kerry got some revenge for the shameful way his service was treated in 2004. And Gabby Giffords led us in the Pledge of Allegiance. She could have read the phone book and brought the house down.
Speaking of moral authority, I think that's what this convention was about. Do what's right, play fair, work hard, support each other, share the American dream. That was the message. Also, the notion that the other side has little to offer in this realm. You can buy that or not, but that's what happened this week.
I've got to get home. Two days of driving through some gorgeous county. In the next couple of days I'll be posting about convention odds and ends that I wasn't able to find time for during the hectic and uncertain schedule this week. So check back, and talk back in Comments.
See you on the road.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Remember the big tent I described the other day? Here we are. Long line, big breakfast, Bruce Springsteen on the sound system. There's a clear hierarchy in politics, of course, and New York State is no exception. A first-term county rep from upstate does not even appear on the chart. Last night's program ended with a polling of the delegations - the activity that actually declared Barack Obama the official nominee, the cameras zoomed in on each delegation as they voted, the leader speaking from a small podium with a microphone under the state sign. When I got to the arena last night, the seats near the podium had signs on them, with the names of those who would be sitting in those seats - and therefore get camera time as the leader extolled the state of NY and reported the result of the delegation's vote.
This morning, with the governor scheduled to speak, all the tables near the podium have a "Reserved" sign on them. I'm out in the cheap seats, but near a big screen. It's noisy; I can barely distinguish which Springsteen song is playing.
While I'm waiting (unlike the Convention, which was on time and crisp, the NY show is late), some thoughts on the Charlotte/Convention experience.
There are thousands of staff and volunteers all over the place. They've got navy blue polo shirts and big smiles. Some have signs that say, "Ask me." When you do ask them, they have the answer, or they get it. I go past probably twenty of them each time I enter the Convention Center and the Arena, and every one of them cheerfully checks my credentials. My Delegate credentials get me in everywhere and, except on the way to the evening Convention floor, I can bypass searches. Everyone's searched on the way to the Arena - just like at the airport, or at the County Office Building, but with the addition of an obligatory arms-out wand search, front and back.
Back to the NYS tent: I sat next to a Sally Minard, of Manhattan, who has spent the last few years spearheading an effort to create a memorial to FDR on the south end of Roosevelt Island, in the East River between Manhattan and Queens. It'll be a private-Statge collaborative effort (eventually becoming a State Park), so of course I told her all about Hyde Hall.
Cuomo's speech to the NYS Delegation was, in Ms. Minard's word, a "stemwinder," and I agree. His theme was everyone working together to get important things done - a clear response to the criticisms of the "you didn't build that" comment. Of course "you" didn't build that. Nothing happens in a vacuum of one. And - to find out what President Obama really said - look here (WARNING - this is a Fox link, of all things!). I think I've said it before: the mantra in our house, till everyone was sick of it, is "working together for the common good." That's what we should be looking to do every day. That's why the campaign theme "Better Together" resounds so well with me.
Gotta go again, this time to the Rural Council. See you tomorrow.
This morning, with the governor scheduled to speak, all the tables near the podium have a "Reserved" sign on them. I'm out in the cheap seats, but near a big screen. It's noisy; I can barely distinguish which Springsteen song is playing.
While I'm waiting (unlike the Convention, which was on time and crisp, the NY show is late), some thoughts on the Charlotte/Convention experience.
There are thousands of staff and volunteers all over the place. They've got navy blue polo shirts and big smiles. Some have signs that say, "Ask me." When you do ask them, they have the answer, or they get it. I go past probably twenty of them each time I enter the Convention Center and the Arena, and every one of them cheerfully checks my credentials. My Delegate credentials get me in everywhere and, except on the way to the evening Convention floor, I can bypass searches. Everyone's searched on the way to the Arena - just like at the airport, or at the County Office Building, but with the addition of an obligatory arms-out wand search, front and back.
Back to the NYS tent: I sat next to a Sally Minard, of Manhattan, who has spent the last few years spearheading an effort to create a memorial to FDR on the south end of Roosevelt Island, in the East River between Manhattan and Queens. It'll be a private-Statge collaborative effort (eventually becoming a State Park), so of course I told her all about Hyde Hall.
Cuomo's speech to the NYS Delegation was, in Ms. Minard's word, a "stemwinder," and I agree. His theme was everyone working together to get important things done - a clear response to the criticisms of the "you didn't build that" comment. Of course "you" didn't build that. Nothing happens in a vacuum of one. And - to find out what President Obama really said - look here (WARNING - this is a Fox link, of all things!). I think I've said it before: the mantra in our house, till everyone was sick of it, is "working together for the common good." That's what we should be looking to do every day. That's why the campaign theme "Better Together" resounds so well with me.
Gotta go again, this time to the Rural Council. See you tomorrow.
Thursday night
What kind of country do you want to live in?
Bill Clinton's speech last night, if it did nothing more, made it clear to a primetime audience just what the difference is between the two competing visions of America. You may or may not like it; you may or may not subscribe to the Democratic vision, but you can't say you don't know the difference. That's the job of a keynote convention speaker (as well as extolling the virtues of the candidate), and the Big Dog delivered. He was elder statesman and teacher, exhorter and entertainer. He gave a long speech that seemed to be over in a flash, even at the end of a long evening.
But you probably saw the speech, and you're probably not coming here to find out about what I thought about it. I do think you should check out St. Louis Congressman Emanuel Cleaver's speech for a peek into a large and vibrant - and often overlooked - region of the Democratic experience. And just for the benefit of the luminous smile, check out Sister Simone Campbell.
The delegates seemed tired last night. I know that I was tired. It was well into the morning hours before I got to sleep either night. They seem to have the bus situation close to handled, although there are still some glitches (some delegates waited over an hour for their route bus, while eight or ten buses came for the route next to them). My bus driver last night was from Mobile, Alabama.
Yesterday, at one of the caucuses, I met the woman who is responsible for the portion of the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) which allows children to remain on their parent's health insurance until they reach 26 years of age. Right after that, she was defeated by the Tea Party; it was her only term in Congress. That's what kind of country we live in right now. I shook her hand and thanked her, and told her my boys thank her, too.
I don't have much time this morning, and I've spent a bunch of it talking to other delegates (imagine that!). The truth is, except for signing the ballot yesterday morning, if I hadn't shown up, no one would have noticed. It's nice to have lots of other folks around who have a lot to say and are as interested in the nuts and bolts of politics as I am.
I'll be back; got to get the bus to hear Governor Cuomo (and when I type that, I notice that I do really wish I meant Mario).
Bill Clinton's speech last night, if it did nothing more, made it clear to a primetime audience just what the difference is between the two competing visions of America. You may or may not like it; you may or may not subscribe to the Democratic vision, but you can't say you don't know the difference. That's the job of a keynote convention speaker (as well as extolling the virtues of the candidate), and the Big Dog delivered. He was elder statesman and teacher, exhorter and entertainer. He gave a long speech that seemed to be over in a flash, even at the end of a long evening.
But you probably saw the speech, and you're probably not coming here to find out about what I thought about it. I do think you should check out St. Louis Congressman Emanuel Cleaver's speech for a peek into a large and vibrant - and often overlooked - region of the Democratic experience. And just for the benefit of the luminous smile, check out Sister Simone Campbell.
The delegates seemed tired last night. I know that I was tired. It was well into the morning hours before I got to sleep either night. They seem to have the bus situation close to handled, although there are still some glitches (some delegates waited over an hour for their route bus, while eight or ten buses came for the route next to them). My bus driver last night was from Mobile, Alabama.
Yesterday, at one of the caucuses, I met the woman who is responsible for the portion of the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) which allows children to remain on their parent's health insurance until they reach 26 years of age. Right after that, she was defeated by the Tea Party; it was her only term in Congress. That's what kind of country we live in right now. I shook her hand and thanked her, and told her my boys thank her, too.
I don't have much time this morning, and I've spent a bunch of it talking to other delegates (imagine that!). The truth is, except for signing the ballot yesterday morning, if I hadn't shown up, no one would have noticed. It's nice to have lots of other folks around who have a lot to say and are as interested in the nuts and bolts of politics as I am.
I'll be back; got to get the bus to hear Governor Cuomo (and when I type that, I notice that I do really wish I meant Mario).
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Tuesday night
So where do I start?
I wanted to start with the continuing story of the great transportation disaster (three bus rides from hell in three and a half days), but even that tends to fade into the background against the experience of being on the convention floor last night.
Michelle Obama looked like she was born to do what she did last night. She was strong and focused, clear and personal, compelling, compassionate and she made sense. She spoke about character, which always makes me sit up and take notice: I want, perhaps more than anything, a president with character. She talked about her fears of what the Presidential experience would do to her children. "Being president doesn't change who you are; it reveals who you are." She is happy about what was revealed. So am I.
There were - oh, I don't know, I didn't count - thirty or so speeches last night. It was a mixed bag, and it took six hours. I saw them all, and I think it's a new ball game. The months of gloomy analysis about the lack of enthusiasm for the ticket and the re-election effort are over. There was nothing but enthusiasm and - OK, I'll say it - hope, in the house last night.
So far, I'd give the "Barack Obama 2004 Convention Speech Award" to Cory Booker, the mayor of Newark, but many of the pundits seem to be giving it to Deval Patrick, Governor of Massachusetts. I was disappointed that he didn't spend much time on Romneycare. I liked Ted Strickland, former Governor of Ohio; the word on him seems to be that he was trying to ignite a class war. I believe that we have been engaged in class warfare for half a century, at least, and that the rich have pretty much won. And the notion that we should avoid anything that resembles fighting back is of great use to those who hold the advantage.
I'm in the breakfast room of the hotel right now, dividing my time between writing and joining in the conversation. For a while the conversation focused on Michelle's dress, nails and work-out musculature. I got a lot of writing done (I didn't remember what color her dress was, and when shown a picture, I still don't know...). But we moved to another subject that the opposition is trying to convince us is impolite to mention: race. A black woman from the City spoke about her daughter, in college, who is trying to develop her own political identity. She can't get by the 'dog-whistle' issues - the phrases and issues which signal to those in the know how the speaker feels about racial issues. "Do they think we're stupid?" her daughter asked. "Maybe in grandma's day, when they didn't have the educational opportunities, but now... it's horrible."
The mayor of Hornell is sitting next to me, and we're talking (along with a former Town Supervisor from LI and the former Sheriff of Fulton County) about town/city merger vs. annexation of part of the town; Hizonner has sent Oneonta some information about this process, since Hornell is the only city in the state, according to him, which has successfully annexed contiguous land. Everybody won.
It's rained here every day (I just missed getting wet yesterday), and the forecast is the same. President Obama's speech venue has been changed, from the very big open sports stadium it was originally scheduled for, to the arena that the rest of the Convention has been held in. Lots of folks won't be able to attend; there are 'watch parties' scheduled all over town.
On the way - the long way - to find the bus last night, I happened to be standing at an intersection when what I assume was Michelle Obama's convoy sped by. Six or eight motorcycle policemen, with lights and sirens; then three or four Sheriffs' cars, four or five black SUVs, then three more police cars. The were all going very fast. At the intersection, there were about a dozen heavily-armed soldiers who were, as everyone in uniform as been, pleasant and vigilant. Later, I found out that all traffic in town stopped until the convoy got out of town.
I did go to the Rural Council yesterday. It was mostly about agriculture, and I took a lot of notes. The Farm Bill - which includes the SNAP (Food Stamps) program, has been held up, unsurprisingly, in the House. Fourteen cents of every SNAP dollar goes to American farmers. Go figure.
Hey - I got my shoes shined! Now they're (supposedly) very water resistant, and it's going to rain hard when I need to be walking outside. See you later.
I wanted to start with the continuing story of the great transportation disaster (three bus rides from hell in three and a half days), but even that tends to fade into the background against the experience of being on the convention floor last night.
Michelle Obama looked like she was born to do what she did last night. She was strong and focused, clear and personal, compelling, compassionate and she made sense. She spoke about character, which always makes me sit up and take notice: I want, perhaps more than anything, a president with character. She talked about her fears of what the Presidential experience would do to her children. "Being president doesn't change who you are; it reveals who you are." She is happy about what was revealed. So am I.
There were - oh, I don't know, I didn't count - thirty or so speeches last night. It was a mixed bag, and it took six hours. I saw them all, and I think it's a new ball game. The months of gloomy analysis about the lack of enthusiasm for the ticket and the re-election effort are over. There was nothing but enthusiasm and - OK, I'll say it - hope, in the house last night.
So far, I'd give the "Barack Obama 2004 Convention Speech Award" to Cory Booker, the mayor of Newark, but many of the pundits seem to be giving it to Deval Patrick, Governor of Massachusetts. I was disappointed that he didn't spend much time on Romneycare. I liked Ted Strickland, former Governor of Ohio; the word on him seems to be that he was trying to ignite a class war. I believe that we have been engaged in class warfare for half a century, at least, and that the rich have pretty much won. And the notion that we should avoid anything that resembles fighting back is of great use to those who hold the advantage.
I'm in the breakfast room of the hotel right now, dividing my time between writing and joining in the conversation. For a while the conversation focused on Michelle's dress, nails and work-out musculature. I got a lot of writing done (I didn't remember what color her dress was, and when shown a picture, I still don't know...). But we moved to another subject that the opposition is trying to convince us is impolite to mention: race. A black woman from the City spoke about her daughter, in college, who is trying to develop her own political identity. She can't get by the 'dog-whistle' issues - the phrases and issues which signal to those in the know how the speaker feels about racial issues. "Do they think we're stupid?" her daughter asked. "Maybe in grandma's day, when they didn't have the educational opportunities, but now... it's horrible."
The mayor of Hornell is sitting next to me, and we're talking (along with a former Town Supervisor from LI and the former Sheriff of Fulton County) about town/city merger vs. annexation of part of the town; Hizonner has sent Oneonta some information about this process, since Hornell is the only city in the state, according to him, which has successfully annexed contiguous land. Everybody won.
It's rained here every day (I just missed getting wet yesterday), and the forecast is the same. President Obama's speech venue has been changed, from the very big open sports stadium it was originally scheduled for, to the arena that the rest of the Convention has been held in. Lots of folks won't be able to attend; there are 'watch parties' scheduled all over town.
On the way - the long way - to find the bus last night, I happened to be standing at an intersection when what I assume was Michelle Obama's convoy sped by. Six or eight motorcycle policemen, with lights and sirens; then three or four Sheriffs' cars, four or five black SUVs, then three more police cars. The were all going very fast. At the intersection, there were about a dozen heavily-armed soldiers who were, as everyone in uniform as been, pleasant and vigilant. Later, I found out that all traffic in town stopped until the convoy got out of town.
I did go to the Rural Council yesterday. It was mostly about agriculture, and I took a lot of notes. The Farm Bill - which includes the SNAP (Food Stamps) program, has been held up, unsurprisingly, in the House. Fourteen cents of every SNAP dollar goes to American farmers. Go figure.
Hey - I got my shoes shined! Now they're (supposedly) very water resistant, and it's going to rain hard when I need to be walking outside. See you later.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Tuesday morning
I've got some time before the Rural Council, and the general session - on the convention floor! - starts right after that.
Since this is the first day of the general session, it was the first day our credentials said "Floor Delegate." I know all about how conventions have become less about doing the work of the party and more about campaigning, with the delegates relegated, for the most part, to the role of audience. I don't care. Putting that badge in my credential holder today was a profoundly moving experience. I was here, in the wheels of democracy, personally part of over two hundred years of history. I was participating, in an intense and formal way, in America. It was the same feeling, and for the same reason, that I had when I was sworn in as a County Representative in January.
On the bus back from downtown (actually, they call it 'uptown') yesterday, I sat next to Mike, a financial analyst who works for San Bernadino County in California, east of LA. He spoke with a south Asian accent, and had a great sense of humor: he showed me pictures he had had taken of himself at the podium of the caucus he attended just as it was breaking up; he pretended he was speaking. He said, "A picture doesn't lie, does it? I spoke at the convention!" Anyway, Mike said he had had a conversation with a journalist who attended the Republican convention as well. The journalist was amazed at the diversity at the convention here in Charlotte. "In Tampa," he said, "everyone was white. And there were no families." Here in Charlotte, it's like America. Given that Caucasians will cease being in the majority in America soon (in demographic time), I'm glad I'm here and not in Tampa.
Mike also told me that the County Supervisors in his county make over $200,000 a year in salaries and benefits. I looked it up, and it's true. Kind of puts things in perspective.
I mentioned that the bus drivers were from all over (Mississippi, South Carolina, Georgia), and that's also true of the police, who are everywhere, often in large groups, often on motorcycles or bicycles. All very friendly, and very vigilant. I saw uniformed officers from Chicago, Louisville KY, Virginia, and other places I can't remember. I also saw a Secret Service agent; I knew that because his Kevlar vest said "Secret Service" on it, and he had one of those ear things. Helicopters hover high above the city. And the President isn't even here yet.
Michelle Obama, among others, will be speaking tonight. I don't think I'm going to comment much about the main floor speeches, since everyone will have the opportunity to see them, but who knows. I've got to go finish drying out everything I had on or with me yesterday. See you tomorrow.
Since this is the first day of the general session, it was the first day our credentials said "Floor Delegate." I know all about how conventions have become less about doing the work of the party and more about campaigning, with the delegates relegated, for the most part, to the role of audience. I don't care. Putting that badge in my credential holder today was a profoundly moving experience. I was here, in the wheels of democracy, personally part of over two hundred years of history. I was participating, in an intense and formal way, in America. It was the same feeling, and for the same reason, that I had when I was sworn in as a County Representative in January.
On the bus back from downtown (actually, they call it 'uptown') yesterday, I sat next to Mike, a financial analyst who works for San Bernadino County in California, east of LA. He spoke with a south Asian accent, and had a great sense of humor: he showed me pictures he had had taken of himself at the podium of the caucus he attended just as it was breaking up; he pretended he was speaking. He said, "A picture doesn't lie, does it? I spoke at the convention!" Anyway, Mike said he had had a conversation with a journalist who attended the Republican convention as well. The journalist was amazed at the diversity at the convention here in Charlotte. "In Tampa," he said, "everyone was white. And there were no families." Here in Charlotte, it's like America. Given that Caucasians will cease being in the majority in America soon (in demographic time), I'm glad I'm here and not in Tampa.
Mike also told me that the County Supervisors in his county make over $200,000 a year in salaries and benefits. I looked it up, and it's true. Kind of puts things in perspective.
I mentioned that the bus drivers were from all over (Mississippi, South Carolina, Georgia), and that's also true of the police, who are everywhere, often in large groups, often on motorcycles or bicycles. All very friendly, and very vigilant. I saw uniformed officers from Chicago, Louisville KY, Virginia, and other places I can't remember. I also saw a Secret Service agent; I knew that because his Kevlar vest said "Secret Service" on it, and he had one of those ear things. Helicopters hover high above the city. And the President isn't even here yet.
Michelle Obama, among others, will be speaking tonight. I don't think I'm going to comment much about the main floor speeches, since everyone will have the opportunity to see them, but who knows. I've got to go finish drying out everything I had on or with me yesterday. See you tomorrow.
Monday, September 3, 2012
The Rest of Monday
The Charlotte Convention Center is about the size of, say, Oneonta. The city, not the town. For all it's voluminous size, it's easy to get around and easy to find the room you're looking for. I was looking for Room 203, where the Faith Council was to meet.
Back in the day, delegates to party conventions had a hand in creating the party's platform (as well as, in many cases, actually choosing which aspirant would be the party's presidential candidate). Today, that's all done well before the convention. Now we meet in interest groups, and listen to the folks from the national party, who have been working on the issue for a long time, speak with intelligence and passion about the importance of the issue to the party, the campaign and the country.
Well, I don't know if that's the case all the time, but it was the case at the Faith Council. About a dozen speakers filled two hours with insight into the faith foundations of the Democratic Party. The speakers often came back to the strange and unfortunate habit of the media, the public, and Democrats themselves to cede the faith issues to the other side. "Since when is faith only about abortion and homosexuality?" asked one speaker. "Why isn't the faith conversation about homelessness and injustice?" Congressman Emmanuel Cleaver of Missouri talked about the difference between "nine months" and "cradle to grave," and suggested that there was those who would choose those first nine months and then lose interest after that. As a Democrat who feels strongly that abortion is the wrong choice most of the time, I worry much more about our lack of commitment to children once they are born.
There were a number of really good five minute sermons at the Faith Council, and a couple of stories of personal experience of Barack Obama not only knowing and speaking intelligently about Scripture, but acting with the grace and compassion that Scripture requires of us.
I have always believed that if Jesus' teaching were translated into political terms, he would be a progressive Democrat. I was thrilled to hear speaker after speaker reflecting and magnifying that belief. From immigration to healthcare to voter suppression to racism, the preachers and rabbis and political professionals made it clear that they stood where they stood because of their faith.
Or, in at least one case, because of their faith but in spite of their religion. Congressman Cleaver drew our attention to a letter sent by the Catholic church to his Catholic constituents saying, in effect, that anyone who voted Democratic would go to hell. Robert Johnson, a black Catholic campaign worker, reminded us that Paul Ryan, whose budget plans are the centerpiece of the Republican economic plan, is a Catholic - and that the Catholic bishops have called the Ryan budget "immoral" because of the detrimental effect is has on God's people.
Johnson also reminded us of something St. Augustine wrote: "Charity is no substitute for justice not served." I think I'll just leave it there.
After the Faith Council, I went over to Wild Buffalo Wings, where NY delegates will be eating for free all week. They had a small buffet set up for us - wings, sliders, fries. Really tasty, unhealthy food. Then it was off to Carolina Fest, a downtown street fair (which was strangely reminiscent of a county fair) set out just for DNC delegates. At the center of town, I watched Jeff Bridges and his band and, after a rain delay, James Taylor. Then back to the bus, soaking wet, and the bus ride from hell. But I'm not going to talk about that.
Tomorrow the general sessions begin. The real work. See you soon.
Back in the day, delegates to party conventions had a hand in creating the party's platform (as well as, in many cases, actually choosing which aspirant would be the party's presidential candidate). Today, that's all done well before the convention. Now we meet in interest groups, and listen to the folks from the national party, who have been working on the issue for a long time, speak with intelligence and passion about the importance of the issue to the party, the campaign and the country.
Well, I don't know if that's the case all the time, but it was the case at the Faith Council. About a dozen speakers filled two hours with insight into the faith foundations of the Democratic Party. The speakers often came back to the strange and unfortunate habit of the media, the public, and Democrats themselves to cede the faith issues to the other side. "Since when is faith only about abortion and homosexuality?" asked one speaker. "Why isn't the faith conversation about homelessness and injustice?" Congressman Emmanuel Cleaver of Missouri talked about the difference between "nine months" and "cradle to grave," and suggested that there was those who would choose those first nine months and then lose interest after that. As a Democrat who feels strongly that abortion is the wrong choice most of the time, I worry much more about our lack of commitment to children once they are born.
There were a number of really good five minute sermons at the Faith Council, and a couple of stories of personal experience of Barack Obama not only knowing and speaking intelligently about Scripture, but acting with the grace and compassion that Scripture requires of us.
I have always believed that if Jesus' teaching were translated into political terms, he would be a progressive Democrat. I was thrilled to hear speaker after speaker reflecting and magnifying that belief. From immigration to healthcare to voter suppression to racism, the preachers and rabbis and political professionals made it clear that they stood where they stood because of their faith.
Or, in at least one case, because of their faith but in spite of their religion. Congressman Cleaver drew our attention to a letter sent by the Catholic church to his Catholic constituents saying, in effect, that anyone who voted Democratic would go to hell. Robert Johnson, a black Catholic campaign worker, reminded us that Paul Ryan, whose budget plans are the centerpiece of the Republican economic plan, is a Catholic - and that the Catholic bishops have called the Ryan budget "immoral" because of the detrimental effect is has on God's people.
Johnson also reminded us of something St. Augustine wrote: "Charity is no substitute for justice not served." I think I'll just leave it there.
After the Faith Council, I went over to Wild Buffalo Wings, where NY delegates will be eating for free all week. They had a small buffet set up for us - wings, sliders, fries. Really tasty, unhealthy food. Then it was off to Carolina Fest, a downtown street fair (which was strangely reminiscent of a county fair) set out just for DNC delegates. At the center of town, I watched Jeff Bridges and his band and, after a rain delay, James Taylor. Then back to the bus, soaking wet, and the bus ride from hell. But I'm not going to talk about that.
Tomorrow the general sessions begin. The real work. See you soon.
Breakfast Monday (happy Labor Day!)
Just got back from the NY Dems breakfast meeting. Imagine a tent longer than a football field, and about a third as wide. Podium along one of the long sides; professional lighting, sound; half-a-dozen big screens for people who aren't up close. The rest of the space is dining tables. Breakfast was good, not great (no bacon!).
There were over a dozen speakers, most there to fire up the crowd. It's Labor Day today, so NY labor leaders led off, followed by NYS Assemblymen, mayors, and NYDC officials. The mayor of Syracuse introduced the mayor of Minneapolis, who introduced the mayor of Charlotte, Anthony Fox - an African-American lawyer (NYU |Law School) who is the first Democratic mayor in 22 years.
A couple of things stood out for me. The Co-Chair of the NYSDC noted that "...because we are Democrats, we believe that a recovery is not a recovery until everybody does better." I've always felt the same way about government: we're all in it together, and nobody is collateral damage. I think this serves as one of the more striking differences between the parties.
The President of NYS United Teachers (a leading teachers' union) related the story of a coalition of labor, civil rights and religious leaders he met with yesterday, elsewhere in North Carolina. They're working on a law that would allow public employees the right to bargain collectively. Imagine that. One of the ministers who spoke at that meeting called NC a "right-to-work-for-less-money" state.
Anyway. Transportation seems to be organized a lot better this morning, although a few of us just walked back to the hotel from the breakfast, because the bus driver hadn't gotten clear instructions about where to take us. He was from Atlanta.
I'm off to the Carolina Fest, downtown, and one of the caucuses I'll participate in - the Faith Council (the other one is the Rural Council, which meets tomorrow).
There were over a dozen speakers, most there to fire up the crowd. It's Labor Day today, so NY labor leaders led off, followed by NYS Assemblymen, mayors, and NYDC officials. The mayor of Syracuse introduced the mayor of Minneapolis, who introduced the mayor of Charlotte, Anthony Fox - an African-American lawyer (NYU |Law School) who is the first Democratic mayor in 22 years.
A couple of things stood out for me. The Co-Chair of the NYSDC noted that "...because we are Democrats, we believe that a recovery is not a recovery until everybody does better." I've always felt the same way about government: we're all in it together, and nobody is collateral damage. I think this serves as one of the more striking differences between the parties.
The President of NYS United Teachers (a leading teachers' union) related the story of a coalition of labor, civil rights and religious leaders he met with yesterday, elsewhere in North Carolina. They're working on a law that would allow public employees the right to bargain collectively. Imagine that. One of the ministers who spoke at that meeting called NC a "right-to-work-for-less-money" state.
Anyway. Transportation seems to be organized a lot better this morning, although a few of us just walked back to the hotel from the breakfast, because the bus driver hadn't gotten clear instructions about where to take us. He was from Atlanta.
I'm off to the Carolina Fest, downtown, and one of the caucuses I'll participate in - the Faith Council (the other one is the Rural Council, which meets tomorrow).
Sunday, September 2, 2012
DNC Reception
Just got back from the DNC reception in downtown Charlotte. I was ready for the bus, at the hotel lobby, at 4PM; I got home at 9:30, and spent only two hours during that time at the reception. If you do the math, you will realize how far the organizers are from having a functioning transportation system. Lots of time waiting (and getting to know fellow NY delegates), lots of time crawling toward Charlotte in a non-air-conditioned bus, and finally a 13 block walk to the reception, because the bus driver couldn't figure out how to get to the site. In his defense, much of downtown Charlotte is closed to all traffic, and most of the ubiquitouos emergency services personnel he asked didn't know how to help.
But we got there eventually, and the Democrats seem to be a very diverse group. Lots of people of all colors (except, now that I think of it, Asians), a blind man, two in wheelchairs, and one person with dwarfism. A large number of labor folks (to judge by the t-shirts), which is nice to see, given that the convention is being held in a right-to-work state and because of that, major labor groups are passing it up.
The reception was given in Discovery Place, the downtown science discovery center, two stories of colorful, mazelike, interesting science stuff. If it were my place, I would have had a little more hands-on experiences, but it was great anyway. Lots of us wandered around and played with the exhibits, but most talked in small groups and ate the Carolina specialty food (Carolina caviar on pimento dip was my favorite) and an open bar, which is apparently standard at conventions. Lots of music; three stages on two floors - cool jazz, acoustic guitar/mandolin, Latin (but not ska, sorry Randall), and a group of black kids in colorful sweaters who sang and danced an energetic, athletic, irresistible set, including a sweet, touching version of "God Bless America" with everyone singing along.
There was nothing particularly political about the gathering (except for the Democrat/Obama sale table at one end), but there were a lot of conversations among people from all regions and backgrounds. I met a lot of NYers - a State Assemblyman from LI, a bunch of retired teachers from upstate, the Mayor of Albany, an English teacher who is active in the teachers union statewide, and a recent college graduate from Manhattan who's a campaign volunteer. Democrats took pictures of each other under the grizzly bear; they designed houses on computers in the design section; they laid on a metal bed where thousands of nails came up from thousands of holes to demonstrate the distribution of weight; they danced to Latin and some other kind of music that came from a DJ working a computer and that my sons would know the name of but I don't.
On the way home, we swapped stories with our bus driver, who is from Mississippi (highly skilled, but out-of-town bus drivers don't help the transport situation). He lives near the home of Jefferson Davis, the President of the Confederacy, which was damaged by Hurricane Camille in 1969 - and was restored largely using donations from New Yorkers. It's a strange world.
But we got there eventually, and the Democrats seem to be a very diverse group. Lots of people of all colors (except, now that I think of it, Asians), a blind man, two in wheelchairs, and one person with dwarfism. A large number of labor folks (to judge by the t-shirts), which is nice to see, given that the convention is being held in a right-to-work state and because of that, major labor groups are passing it up.
The reception was given in Discovery Place, the downtown science discovery center, two stories of colorful, mazelike, interesting science stuff. If it were my place, I would have had a little more hands-on experiences, but it was great anyway. Lots of us wandered around and played with the exhibits, but most talked in small groups and ate the Carolina specialty food (Carolina caviar on pimento dip was my favorite) and an open bar, which is apparently standard at conventions. Lots of music; three stages on two floors - cool jazz, acoustic guitar/mandolin, Latin (but not ska, sorry Randall), and a group of black kids in colorful sweaters who sang and danced an energetic, athletic, irresistible set, including a sweet, touching version of "God Bless America" with everyone singing along.
There was nothing particularly political about the gathering (except for the Democrat/Obama sale table at one end), but there were a lot of conversations among people from all regions and backgrounds. I met a lot of NYers - a State Assemblyman from LI, a bunch of retired teachers from upstate, the Mayor of Albany, an English teacher who is active in the teachers union statewide, and a recent college graduate from Manhattan who's a campaign volunteer. Democrats took pictures of each other under the grizzly bear; they designed houses on computers in the design section; they laid on a metal bed where thousands of nails came up from thousands of holes to demonstrate the distribution of weight; they danced to Latin and some other kind of music that came from a DJ working a computer and that my sons would know the name of but I don't.
On the way home, we swapped stories with our bus driver, who is from Mississippi (highly skilled, but out-of-town bus drivers don't help the transport situation). He lives near the home of Jefferson Davis, the President of the Confederacy, which was damaged by Hurricane Camille in 1969 - and was restored largely using donations from New Yorkers. It's a strange world.
Sunday
After a nice visit with relatives outside Lancaster, PA, last night, I was on the road at 0:dark:30, heading south. If you have to spend a day in the car, you can't do much better than I-81 through the Shenandoah Valley in western Virginia, and then I-77 south across North Carolina. Coming down out of the mountains onto the piedmont this afternoon, I drove through scenery as breathtaking as any I've ever seen.
Charlotte is a new city - lots of chrome and glass in tall, modern buildings. It's the smallest national convention venue since New Orleans in 1988; there are 'only' 15,000 hotel rooms in the metro area, and 40,000 folks are expected (just under 5,000 delegates), according to today's "Charlotte Observer." I had looked forward to having my wife Abbey join me for the convention, but as the summer progressed, I got more and more bad news from the DNC and the NY Democratic Committee regarding how few, if any, credentials, venue space and even shuttle seats would be available to non-delegates. It's a small town to be hosting such a huge event.
But so far so good. There were representatives of the NY Democratic Committee and the Charlotte event planners right in the hotel lobby, with credentials, maps, and information. I'm watching a baseball game for a while and - most important - not driving.
I had a note from a friend yesterday, remembering her experience of conventions past, when we were all much younger:
It's been nearly 30 years since either party began their convention without a candidate who had clinched the nomination. Many say the days of conventions as useful or relevant events are coming to a close. We'll see. I'm part of a history that means a great deal to me, and that's enough.
See you soon.
Charlotte is a new city - lots of chrome and glass in tall, modern buildings. It's the smallest national convention venue since New Orleans in 1988; there are 'only' 15,000 hotel rooms in the metro area, and 40,000 folks are expected (just under 5,000 delegates), according to today's "Charlotte Observer." I had looked forward to having my wife Abbey join me for the convention, but as the summer progressed, I got more and more bad news from the DNC and the NY Democratic Committee regarding how few, if any, credentials, venue space and even shuttle seats would be available to non-delegates. It's a small town to be hosting such a huge event.
But so far so good. There were representatives of the NY Democratic Committee and the Charlotte event planners right in the hotel lobby, with credentials, maps, and information. I'm watching a baseball game for a while and - most important - not driving.
I had a note from a friend yesterday, remembering her experience of conventions past, when we were all much younger:
This is a ritual I remember (just watching) from a childhood where the trinity really was FDR, Adlai and Hubert. When I see any of it I can go right back to the roasting Maryland nights we watched every last minute. Gavel to gavel quite literally. I can feel the wallpaper peeling off from the humidity and hear the ice settle as it melted in the glasses of tea. That ritual and all that went with it all year long taught me to believe so strongly in the system, the power of the people to effect change and the truly good that we could all do together. That is why this means so much.I have similar memories. Ted Kennedy in 1980: "The dream shall never die!" Mario Cuomo in 1984: "This country is a shining city on a hill." The iconic 1968 DNC in Chicago: "The whole world is watching!" Barack Obama in 2004:
There's not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America; there's the United States of America... We worship an awesome God in the blue states, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the red states. We coach little league in the blue states and, yes, we've got some gay friends in the red states. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq, and there are patriots who supported the war in Iraq. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.That's something to believe in. I listened to that one with my family, and at the end I said, "He will be the next Democratic nominee for President." Now here I am, ready to vote on the convention floor, ready to put his name into nomination for a second term, this, the second inexperienced junior Senator from Illinois to become president.
It's been nearly 30 years since either party began their convention without a candidate who had clinched the nomination. Many say the days of conventions as useful or relevant events are coming to a close. We'll see. I'm part of a history that means a great deal to me, and that's enough.
See you soon.
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