Marra's Version (!!!)

Before we left for New Hampshire, I wrote a note to all of Marra's teachers, explaining why she would be absent for up to 4 days of school. In each note, I encouraged the teachers to assign a project to Marra based on her experiences chasing candidates. Fortunately, one of her teachers took me up on the offer, and asked Marra to write a one-page summary of the trip. Marra was thrilled (insert sarcasm here).

She refused to write about the trip while we were there, insisting that the trip had to be completed before she could put pen to paper. I insisted that she entertain herself on the 10 hour drive home to Virginia by getting it done. Here below is the first draft, three hand written pages plus recap. Be forewarned, she loves the exclamation point - it's her favorite piece of punctuation:

"On Friday, October 12th, my Dad and I left for Manchester, New Hampshire. We got to see six candidates for the 2008 election! We saw John McCain, Dennis Kucinich, Mike Huckabee, John Edwards, Rudy Giuliani, and Hillary Clinton. We also visited the headquarters of Barack Obama, Fred Thompson, Mitt Romney and Chris Dodd.

Let me start at the beginning. First thing, we went to a global warming conference. We had a huge lunch and listened to a guy make a speech about global warming. Finally, we got to hear three candidates talk. I didn't know that there was so much to know about global warming, and I had never even heard about nuclear power plants!

Nuclear power plants are a form of energy that takes atoms and splits them to cause a mini-bomb. This is cleaner, but the plant lets off a very dangerous waste that can cause cancer. Right now, they just put it in a barrel and either bury it or throw it in the ocean. You can see why that can cause a terrible accident.

After the global warming conference, we went to the Huckabee house party. House parties are my favorite event. You go to somebody's house (in this case because of the global warming theme, it was a green house. A green house is a house that uses solar power. Plus the floor was made of bamboo and the carpet was recycled!) and you can walk around and maybe talk to the candidate personally. (I met Mike Huckabee and got a picture with him!) Then he/she will give a short speech and answer questions. Plus, there's food!

We went to an Edwards event after the house party. John Edwards is my favorite candidate. I like all his ideas the best. This event was a town hall meeting. He gave a speech and answered a few questions. I was so glad to go to bed that night. I was sooooo tired!

The next day, we went to a house party for Edwards. Immediately after, we went to Young's restaurant where Rudy Giuliani was walking around, talking to people! My Dad and I were lucky to get a seat by the door, so we were the first people he met!

I felt like we were stalking Rudy Giuliani! After the restaurant, we saw him at a town hall meeting. I sat on the edge of the balcony so I could look down at him and not have to look over someone's head. He made a speech, then answered a few questions. After that, we just hung out at the hotel pool until we had to go to church.

On Monday, we visited all the candidates' headquarters in Manchester. Some of them were really cool, the Barack Obama's headquarters. The guy who showed us around, Garrett, was very thorough and let us sign the wall to show that we supported Obama. Others, like Rudy Giuliani's headquarters, had people who hardly talked to us. Overall though, most of the headquarters were really cool.

After the headquarters and eating lunch, we went back to the hotel to do homework. Yuck! Anyway, after I did about half of my homework, we went to one more headquarters, then to dinner.

Tuesday was a Hillary Clinton day. We went to her speech in the morning, and a town hall meeting in the afternoon. I waved around a sign I'd made that said, "We drove 500 miles to see you, so CALL ON ME!". I hoped the sign would persuade Hillary to call on us for a question, but it didn't. We did get her to autograph the sign though! Plus, we got a couple of pictures with her!

Overall, it was a really great trip and I learned a lot. New Hampshire is also really beautiful, so I hope I can go back someday."

By Marra...and JS!!!!!

Epilogue

Mission Accomplished.

But like the original "Mission Accomplished" slogan, this did not mean that we were completely done. We still had to get back to Manchester, and we were starving. We got Katie Sullivan's attention before we left Salem HS, and she gave us simple directions. Actually, what made the directions simple was my increasing familiarity with the New Hampshire highways and byways. I was starting to figure this place out, just in time to leave tomorrow.

On the way back, we decided on dinner at the Red Arrow diner one more time. It had a history as mandatory stop for primary candidates, and it had a menu we could both agree on at prices I could justify. We ate and talked politics. Marra was an Edwards supporter at this point. His pledges to help feed and educate everyone in the world during his administration hit home for her. I told her to start looking for tax shelters off shore as soon as possible once Edwards was elected. Not sure she understood that joke, but maybe someday.

I was still undecided. I told her that I had eliminated some candidates so far, however. Kucinich was out. I could not see myself ever voting for either Thompson or Giuliani. Before the trip, I had soured on Richardson. Hunter and Tancredo were never considered, and Paul, while entertaining, is not an option, unless we plan on closing the country permanently. I was leaving Edwards, Obama, Clinton, Biden, Dodd, Romney, and McCain on the table. The trip, I told her, would influence my final decision, but the hands-on experiences we had here couldn't be the sole factor for me. Choosing a leader requires more reflection, and I, unlike the residents of the state, had more time to sort through all this information.

The owner of the Red Arrow recognized us from our previous visit, and that made for a nice end to the official portion of the New Hampshire 2007 journey. We were in Manchester, New Hampshire during presidential primary season being recognized by the locals. And my oldest daughter was living history with me. As the whole trip unfolded, though, I was beginning to think that perhaps this trip was really just about our history together as father-daughter. And this was destined to be a big chapter.

The next morning, we packed up quickly and left the Radisson at approximately 9 AM. We were ready to go. The ride home was thankfully uneventful. We miraculously missed the traffic in NYC, Baltimore and Washington, arriving back in Chantilly before 6 PM that evening, still in daylight. The odometer showed 1,371 miles traveled.

We had seen some of the giants of electoral politics battling for the highest elected office in the world, but a comment from Marra as we neared our house brought it all back to reality for me. We drove past dozens of signs for all of the local politicians, vying for school board, commissioner, sheriff, delegate, state senate. Election Day 2007 was only 3 weeks away. Marra asked an innocent question. "Daddy, which one of these candidates will you vote for?"

I was embarrassed to say that I did not know. The truth is that I did not know in many cases which were Democrats and which were Republicans. I did not now which were pro-growth and which were anti-tax. I did not know which represented corporate interests, and which represented their church agendas. I was ignorant of the local political scene, and for that I was ashamed. At that moment I vowed to myself to learn more about the candidates and issues facing my local community. It was time to think globally and act locally, as it were. And it was time to set a better example for my daughter than just chasing political stars around like rock groupies. It was time to be involved.

The trip to New Hampshire with Marra was supposed to be about finding a leader we could support in 2008. We learned about several, and were impressed by many. I hope what Marra found in New Hampshire was that her father was a leader by example, and that I would be a greater influence on her life than any President ever could (except maybe Ron Paul). I will always strive to be that leader she can believe in. I hope I've earned her vote. She's got mine.

JS

Questions Without Answers

Hillary entered from behind the big curtain just to our right and strode up the short stairs while honoring the crowd with her princess wave. She was still wearing the tailored brown pants suit from this morning, but it did not look like most pants suits after a busy day of work. There wasn't a wrinkle or a crease anywhere to be seen. She did have a large set of red lips plastered on the right side of her face, however, and that punctured the air of perfection. I did wonder whether her husband had ever campaigned in NH with a similar lipstick tattoo on his face, but I quickly decided that should I be called on, that is not the question I would ask.

Senator Clinton provide us with her stump speech before taking questions. She talked education, and favors universal pre-K and debt forgiveness for college grads who commit 2 years to serving the country in areas and professions where we have the most need (doctors in Appalachia, teachers in the inner city, that sort of thing). She views government as a great initiator of social change and industrial progress. She reminded us that the Internet was born from a government project, and of course, the space program could not have gotten off the ground (pardon the pun) if we had waited for the private sector to begin investing in it. Government has been at the leading edge of jump starting change in this nation for years, and we cannot ignore this important role. In particular, she sees energy innovation as having to begin with the government before it can truly take root and be profitable for independent business.

On health care, she is in line with most other Democratic candidates. Give the public access to buy into the Congressional health care plan. She stated that she will tell the "big" insurance companies that "you can no longer make money by denying people coverage." Big applause line. There is one thing she mentioned during her speech that I still need to research. She mentioned a boy named Graham Frost, a 12 year old car accident victim. She had dropped his name in the morning speech as well. She gets all emotional and angry and says that the Republican attack machine could go after her, but they had better leave a 12 year old boy alone. I had no idea what she was talking about. Perhaps I need to read more blogs. I did not understand the reference, but again, big applause line.

For me, one of the most telling moments of the speech was her definitive statement about getting out of Iraq. As she makes this powerful statement and the cheering is at its loudest, she adds "as soon as it is safe to do so." I am not sure who else heard that, but I did. I wanted her to define "safe". My gut tells me that she would not have defined "safe" for me or anyone else. She is the consummate politician, leaving all her options open while convincing the public that her mind is made up and she is steadfast and resolute. I'm not so sure.

Once questions began, an African American woman standing in the back directly in the center called out to Hillary and everyone hushed. For those of you who remember her, it was Carol Simpson, former ABC News reporter who had even once moderated a presidential debate. She has retired from the media and is now a school teacher in Massachusetts. She said that she had brought her students so that they could hear her say in public that she was supporting Hillary Clinton for the Presidency of the United States. A very spontaneous moment that I am sure was carefully orchestrated. Bravo, it looked natural and unplanned.

Hillary took maybe 5 questions, and none from us. Even with Marra waving that homemade sign, we were left to create our own answers to the questions with the little she gave us. She called on the woman behind us, and she asked a softball question about health care. Every question that was asked had been asked before in a larger forum than this. No one had anything tough to ask. That was a shame. I was hoping someone would grill her, force her into answering a new question, one she had not rehearsed for. It was not to be tonight.

When Hillary completed her grueling 5 answer set, she exited the stage to "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" again, and came our way. We had quite a bit of luck with Hillary coming right in our direction. I wanted to get Marra's sign autographed. We bartered with a woman seated behind us. We would have her program signed by Cllinton if she would take a family shot of Marra and me with the candidate. Deal.

Hillary came up to Marra and admired her sign. She gave her a big signature right in the middle of the colorful poster board, and graciously posed for a quick shot with the two of us. I'll say this, the woman knows how to work the rope line. Autographed sign, reserved seating sign, and camera in hand, we got out of the mosh pit and dove across a few folding chairs to avoid the crush. It got a little hairy in the front row, but we survived without cuts or bruises.

As we left the gymnasium, we saw the Clinton staffers working the crowd for votes. We felt like we knew them at this point, so Marra and I said good-bye to most of them and wished them well. We were a part of the primary fabric. It was a very comfortable feeling. Four days completed, and we knew our way around a campaign event.

Nothing left to do but find our way to the hotel, pack and leave the state in the morning. Everything I had dreamed about doing for 4 years had come true. Mission Accomplished.

JS

"I Must Be in the Front Row..."

The final campaign event for Marra and me was the Hillary Town Hall meeting in Salem, New Hampshire. Doors were scheduled to open at 5 PM, with Hillary hitting the stage at 5:30. We snacked in the car on the way, because we knew that 5:30 meant 6:15, and dinner would be late into the evening for us. Salem reminded me of Exeter, where we saw Giuliani two days prior, but 50 years into the future. There was the same small town feel, but the amenities had been upgraded. I might have seen a 7-11 or a chain grocery store on the way. We found the high school without incident. I did not break the news to Marra yet that I had not mapped our route back to Manchester before leaving the hotel earlier in the day. I'll save that tidbit for later.

There were students in team sweatshirts milling about the main entrance waiting for their parents to pick them up now that their after school sports practices had ended. They did not seem interested in the growing throng of people headed inside. Top tier candidate in town? Just another day in Salem, NH. But the crowd was growing quickly and it was barely 5 PM.

Inside, it was a controlled mob scene. All the voices were magnified by the cinder block walls and hard floors. The doors to the gymnasium were shut tight, and the line began there. At least there was a line this time. The people snaked toward us at the main entrance then broke left down one of the corridors. We followed the line past at least 10 classroom doors before finding the end. I estimated there were 200 rabid Democrats there already. Marra was starting to go negative at the prospect of another long wait. But I had our "Go to the Front of the Line" card in my pocket from Sarah Nolan, Clinton's NH Political Director. Time to test her clout.

I convinced Marra to stand in line and hold a place for us, just in case this hall pass didn't work. I thought for a moment that having her sad face with me might help the cause, garner some sympathy, but I couldn't stand the thought of ending up even further back in the line. I had to have an insurance policy. Marra would have to wait.

Up at the front of the line, I recognized one of the event coordinators from the policy speech this morning. She was a beautiful Asian woman, maybe early 20s, totally in control of the situation, walkie talkie working at full capacity. She was giving instructions to about 5 volunteers on their assignments for the evening. During her hallway huddle, she was interrupted 3 times with questions, answered them without a hint of hesitation, and returned her attention to her recruits. This woman has a career ahead of her in this business. Once instructions were handed out, I jumped in and introduced myself. I played the insider angle immediately.

"We were just with Sarah Nolan at the house party and she said that if I mentioned her name and showed her card, my daughter and I could be seated up front. Can you help me with this?" I could tell by the look on her face that Sarah was a somebody, somebody with power, someone not to be disappointed. This was going to work.

"Let me introduce you to her boss, and he'll take care of you." She whisked me over to Colin, in his blue blazer and what appeared to be a white dickie under his blue oxford. Preppies for Hillary, I thought. Another constituency to worry about. Colin was clearly in charge, because he did not seem to have as much to do as the other staffers running around. I even saw the campaign workers that we had met Monday and again this morning, and this time they were engaged in actual work. No donuts in sight. Good to see. Perhaps the Senator lit a fire under them this morning.

Colin was very gracious and right to the point. "No problem, you'll have seats in the front row, just to the right of the stage. We will place a sign on two seats that say "Reserved for Joe', and those will be for you and your daughter. Will that work?"

Yeah, that will work.

I returned to save Marra from the line people and deliver the good news. It was like waking her on Christmas morning and walking her down the stairs to a shiny new bicycle. "Marra, did I tell you I'd take care of it or did I tell you I'd take care of it!" There is nothing quite like the feeling of leaving the masses behind as you glide to the front of the line. Now if there was a VIP reception before hand, that would have been pretty good, too. Oh well, Marra was happy again, and assuming we didn't get lost driving home, I felt confident that the rest of the trip was a "slam dunk".

We stayed close to the gymnasium doors and tried to blend in with the group already waiting there patiently for the doors to open. After 15 minutes of soaking in the excitement, Katie, the staffer we had met yesterday in Manchester, gestured to us to come forward, and we were allowed into the gym before anyone else (except the press). I was basking in the glow of knowing that my daughter was impressed by her dad at this moment. I was delivering on a promise. Just as Colin promised, there were two seats at the corner of the stage, front row, with signs "Reserved for Joe". We saved them as proof. We sat and relaxed as the gym filled up.

The room was cut in half by a large curtain. The bleachers were pulled out on the sides, the left side for press cameras, and right side for overflow that could not find a seat on the floor. I would guess capacity at about 500 people, but they were all behind me and Marra!

We were fortunate enough to be seated next to a Vietnam vet who was supporting and actively working for Hillary. Great for Marra to see and hear a war veteran talk about world issues and health care. Just another example of a committed New Hampshirite accepting his role in the process of choosing the nominees of the major parties. We had met some serious thinkers, and very few blindly partisan people during our stay. Except for the JFK conspiracy guy, of course.

Our entire section had to sign waivers again in case our image was used in a future Hilary commercial. We were old pros and explained the form to those around us. Several ladies behind us were intrigued that we had seen Hillary already that morning, and I dazzled them with tales of our 4 day odyssey to NH. It was fun to impress the locals with our commitment to the process. Everyone was very positive. Then one of the woman asked, "So, who do you like?"

The weight of the question caused me to hesitate. In New Hampshire, my answer to these strangers would help to form their opinions of all the possible candidates. Something I say could influence their vote on primary day. Something I say could be relayed to one of their friends, who uses my reasoning and my judgment to develop their own favorite. I could not be glib, I could not exaggerate in any way. I had to tell it as I saw it, and be sure not to leave anything out. I was helping to shape the race. Plus Marra was listening. I deliberately worked to stay neutral, to offer observations both good and bad about every candidate or campaign we encountered. With her listening, I felt like the voting booth curtain was closing behind me, but Marra was looking over my shoulder. I have been asked this question by many people since the trip, but it has never impacted me the way it did that evening.

I tried to be fair about everyone. "I thought McCain had the greatest mastery of all of the relevant issues. I thought Giuliani was extremely intelligent. I thought that Huckabee presented the clearest and most memorable message about his values and beliefs in the campaign. He had the best answer to why he should be President. I thought Kucinich was over the top with his goal of public ownership of "a lot of things". He sounded more communist than liberal. We thought that Obama had the most organized and focused campaign operation. We found Edwards to be the most passionate and the most specific about his plans. We felt that Hillary was the strongest campaigner and appeared by far the most presidential." I added that we did not see Biden, Richardson, Dodd, Paul, Thompson, Obama, Romney, Brownback, Gravel, Tancredo or Hunter. Hardly a complete view of the field in 4 days, but nonetheless, we had had many experiences upon which to base our humble opinions.

Exhale. I had voiced my opinion in New Hampshire. I was part of the decision making process now. Then Hillary made her entrance.

JS

The Shut Out

It has been said that bad things come in threes. The first "bad" thing was that we went to the Little Gym appearance for Hillary and were shut out. Her schedule on the Internet for the day did not indicate that the appearance was a closed event, but no matter. We drove to see her for the second time that day, all for nothing. It was still worth the chance, and there were two Clinton events left for the day. Marra and I both felt we were cheated that afternoon, but piled back into the van for the house party.

Then we got lost - "bad" thing #2.

I was OK with the unfortunate turn of events. We had extra time, we had a full tank of gas, it was a gorgeous day, and we weren't hopelessly lost - just slightly misguided. I had some optimism. Marra was not as optimistic. "Daddy, where are we going? Are you sure you know?" She had a tone of exasperation in her voice. The girl wanted to see the Senator again and wave her new sign. I was an obstacle for her. I tried to set a positive male role model example for her by stopping for directions at a roadside convenience store. We were back on track quickly thereafter, but we (I) had wasted at least 20 minutes with the unexpected detour.

It was a 45 minute drive to the house party. The scenery is best described as rolling countryside. The leaves were in brilliant shades of amber and deep red - peak colors dulled only slightly by the lack of rainfall recently. It was just beginning to approach dusk, when the lights cast mild shadows and the leaves reflect the sun right into your eyes. I was getting tired of driving, and most of the CDs we had brought were into a second rotation. We were having one of those moments thinking, "What are we doing here?"

We drove about a mile into a sparse woods, our view punctuated by spectacular homes with wrap around porches, stables, and long driveways with tall pine canopies. The members of the middle class probably clean these houses for a living. The smell of old money hung heavy in the air.

We had to park on the side of the road in a ditch to be sure that oncoming traffic wouldn't crash into our rear bumper. We had no idea how far a walk we had in store. We only knew that we couldn't park any closer. We were even that sure where the event was. We crawled out of the car and started walking towards the other parked cars. This looked like it was going to be pretty crowded, and I was worried that we wouldn't be able to get very close to Hillary.

As we turned up the gravel driveway, we could see the house straight ahead. Yellow with green trim, and it did not look that big from the front. It had to be sitting on several private acres, however. I was certain that an Irish Setter would come bounding down the drive at any moment to complete the picture.

No Irish Setter, but a buttoned up young lady in a tailored blue suit holding a clipboard bounded toward us. She had a friendly smile but a tight bun in her hair that was all business. "May I help you?" We were about 10 yards from the house.

"Sure, we're here for the house party." Apparently, it was time for bad thing #3.

"I'm sorry, this party is invitation only." I was exasperated, and I started whining. I launched into our story of 800 miles of driving, seeing all the candidates, going to events all week without incident or invitation. "The posted schedule on the Internet did not indicate that an invitation was required, and your campaign posted that schedule." I fibbed a little there. "We've told several staffers that we were planning to come this afternoon and not one mentioned that an invitation was required." That was not a fib. Someone could have stopped us before we had come this far.

I could not see Marra's face, but the woman bouncer must have seen something in her eyes. "Look, my name is Sarah Nolan, and I am the Political Director for the campaign. Take one of my business cards to the Town hall meeting in Salem tonight, and they'll be sure to seat in in the front row. Sorry about the confusion."

I was satisfied. For me, the trip to this invite only party paid off. We'd be front row for the second event of the day!

Marra and I thanked her, and as we started to leave, the Secret Service stopped us cold. "You'll need to wait a few minutes, sir." Hillary was arriving up the driveway in a thunder of 5 black Suburbans. We could not see which truck was carrying her, but I am sure that was intentional. The whole arrival was very tightly controlled, very presidential. It's impressive when you need 5 secured vehicles to go anywhere safely.

Hillary must have been in the first Suburban, because we heard her voice greeting the hosts of the party around the corner from where we were standing perfectly still. We did not want to arouse the suspicions of the agents. This was the 3rd time we had seen some of these agents today, and it is their job to remember shady characters like us. In a moment, her voice was gone and she was in the house surrounded by cheering supporters. We were out in the cold, free to leave.

Walking back down the driveway with the sounds of applause echoing in our ears, Marra lost it. I don't know how else to put it. The waves of audible sobbing came pouring out, part disappointment, part anger. "The house parties are the best part. Why can't we stay?" she cried. She could hardly walk straight. Four full days of chasing history in New Hampshire had finally caught up to her. She was fading fast. My mature traveling companion had reverted back to her chronological age of 11.

I attempted to fix the situation with reason. "Marra, because we came here, we will have front row seats for the Town Hall tonight. It's all working out for the best. We've seen Hillary already, and we have her picture. It's OK."

No, it wasn't OK. She was inconsolable, and that brought my disappointment and fatigue to the surface. I was ready to lose it, too. "Marra," I threatened, "I have seen everything I had planned to see. We can head back to Virginia tonight. Pull it together, or we can just go home." Idle threats against an overly emotional preteen. Not exactly textbook parenting, but it had been a long 4 days. Perhaps there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. I felt the entire experience of father-daughter bonding was melting away in one explosive episode of tears and shouts.

We walked to the car in a few minutes of silence. "Marra," I broke the mood, "Maybe we've had too much togetherness for one week, what so you think?" She quietly agreed. I apologized, and we drove to Salem listening to Hanna Montana. She'll cheer us up.

One more event and our journey is complete. How could anything go wrong? We were going to be sitting in the front row, and we had a sign. Hopefully, these directions are good...

JS

Nothing Happens

Hillary's policy address ended at lunchtime, so we walked to a nearby Subway for sandwiches and a debrief. It was another picture perfect day of New England fall weather, not a cloud in the sky, making for a nice walk to Jared's Place. Our excitement over the face-to-face encounter with the former First Lady was tempered only by our inability to get called on for a question - again. We tried. We sat up front, raised our hands respectfully, and tried to play the "ask a little girl a question" card. We were disappointed to be passed over time and again, but convinced ourselves that we looked too intimidating and knowledgeable to be recognized for a question by the candidate. Maybe it's because we hadn't been planted...

We had two questions ready:

"Senator, the Senate recently voted on a non-binding resolution declaring the state army of Iran to be a terrorist organization. Sen. Edwards believes a "no" vote would have been correct because Pres. Bush will use this vote as a pretext to continue the drumbeat toward unilateral military action in the name of the "War on Terror". Sen. Obama did not vote, and his camp is saying that non-binding resolutions are political only, and we should be focused on the issues, not political posturing. You voted "yes". Can you explain your vote, and tell us what is wrong with your opponents' viewpoints?" (side note: this was all before Clinton's Iran stand was making headlines in the campaign - we were actually ahead of the curve on this one!)

Our second question is the same one we had for Edwards - what are your plans to simplify the tax code? (You'll have to read old posting for that one in its entirety, I am NOT retyping it here)

There would be 3 more opportunities today, and the quest for a photograph and an autograph would not distract us. We would get our measure of this woman before the day was done. We had to increase our odds of being picked for a question, we had to differentiate ourselves from the masses. Marra suggested a sign, and I quickly agreed, assuming that she would handle design and execution while I handled finance. I paid for some markers and a clean white sheet of poster board at the downtown CVS, and we were back to the room for a short break.

I did my best to allow Marra full artistic freedom to create her sign for Hillary. I really tried. I am sure, however, that I was getting under her skin with my silly comments about readability from across a room and my maniacal obsession with proper spelling. The sign came out fantastic, and I can take no credit. Now we would be rabid, sign waving supporters. What was I creating here?

With signage complete, we detoured before the Little Gym event to the University of Southern New Hampshire bookstore for some family gifts. We were running out of time and were desperate to take a piece of New Hampshire and this experience back to Virginia with us. We would settle for T-shirts and campaign stickers. These were the imperfect ways that we could share the trip with others because the private memories would remain selfishly our own. As I told Marra, "We'll always have Manchester." She didn't get the movie reference.

The second stop of the day for Sen. Clinton was the Little Gym in (some town whose name I forget). This followed her theme of the day of helping build strong families. I wish I had had the chance to ask her how dropping Junior off at the Little Gym at 8 AM and picking him up at 6 PM supported her message of "strong families". Sounded more like outsourcing, but I digress.

There were a few people - maybe 6 or 7 - congregating near the pathway that led to the Little Gym entrance, mostly employees of the other businesses within the small strip center. The walking path was blocked by two black Towne cars, conspicuously discouraging any would-be trouble makers. Men in suits with short hair cuts, sunglasses, earpieces were milling around, looking for their smiles. I asked one of the friendlies if Marra and I could go closer to the front door to catch a glimpse of Hillary's arrival. "This is a private event, sir, please step back." I thought that made sense, given that she was going into a center with a bunch of little kids everywhere. "Large Crowd of Hillary Supporters Freak Out Pre-Schoolers; Parents Threaten Lawsuit" would be an ugly headline, not to mention the close up shots of little kids crying on the front page of every right wing blog in America. Perhaps it was best if we missed this one. Some press cameras were allowed past us, but only after a thorough once over from the SS - I mean, Secret Service.

While we were waiting, we visited some of the shops nearby. Not sure that any of the struggling "working families" Hillary loves to mention in her speeches did much shopping here. If you can afford an infant sweater for $80, then that Bush tax cut you've been enjoying might just be going away during the Clinton 44 administration. Look out!

We waited for nothing. Before we even realized it, Hillary was inside the center. Apparently, there's a back entrance, and she was whisked inside without a whiff of fresh air. We never saw it happen. The men in suits were a lot more uptight now, though. That made us uptight, and also convinced us that we were waiting for nothing. We decided to head to the house party early, about a 25 minute drive.

JS

The First Lady

At the conclusion of our visit with Obama Nation, it was dark outside and chilly. The lights from the upper windows of the complex spilled onto the street, and we were unafraid. Marra and I were energized by meeting the volunteers and the paid staffers, and of course, signing the wall. For a few minutes that evening, we were a part of something larger than ourselves. Don't all the candidates for world leader hope to inspire, in fact need to inspire, the populace like this?

Despite the upbeat ending of our political day, we crashed quickly. We went for traditional Italian at a pizzeria on Elm Street, just a few blocks down from home base. We talked, watched the Red Sox playoff game, and called it a night. Tomorrow, Tuesday, would be our last day in New Hampshire. We needed the rest. After a shower for Marra and a beer for Daddy, neither of us struggled falling asleep.

Tuesday morning began like all the other previous mornings in the hotel. I woke to find Marra sitting legs folded on the edge of the bed watched "Saved by the Bell" with the sound almost inaudible to my middle aged ears. I was grateful that she was considerate enough to let me sleep. I was equally disappointed that she was exchanging classroom time in Virginia with time watching Zack and Screech engage in a variety of middle school hi jinx. Marra was learning about climate change, immigration policy and the Iranian threat at the same time she was studying bad situation comedy and worse 1980s styles. Perhaps expecting to wake up to her watching McNeil-Lehrer is too much to ask...yet.

I was keyed up about our itinerary for the day. It would be Hillary all day, beginning with a policy address in the morning, then a visit to a child care center, an afternoon house party, and finally a 5:30 PM Town Hall meeting. When we had arrived on Saturday, none of these events were scheduled. Clinton was not even scheduled to be in the state all week. It was a gift to us when these events were added. While Marra and I would have made the best of the situation and visited more campaign headquarters, it would not have compared to seeing the Democratic front runner, the presumptive nominee of her party, and the former First Lady up close and personal. Raising a daughter in America, this day was taking on greater significance for me. I could have Marra's picture taken with the woman most likely to be the first female President of the United States. That would be something she would cherish for the rest of her life. I wanted to give that to her.

We did another breakfast at the Merrimack. We were greeted by what appeared to be a homeless woman in the vestibule. This particular woman had been there the day before as well, and the staff knew her and called her by name. She even seated Marra and me in a booth and handed us menus. She talked a bit crazy, running some nonsense words together from time to time and raising her voice occasionally. No one minded, so neither did we. At least she was helping out.

The waitress recognized us. We were regulars now on the Manchester scene. I thought I would miss the welcome feeling of familiarity when we left the next day. I thought I would especially miss hanging with my daughter, my rapidly growing up daughter. It may be cliche, but she was growing up before my eyes. I was so glad we were doing this.

The Clinton policy speech was planned for 10:30 AM, with doors opening at 10:00 AM. I wanted to get there early and guarantee a great seat. We were only 5 city blocks away. Marra insisted we stop at a used book store along the route so she would have something to read while we waited for the speech to begin. She was browsing at her signature leisurely pace, and I was jumping out of my skin. "Let's go, let's go, " I nagged. We have to get a great seat.

As I dragged Marra from the bookstore and we rounded the corner towards the YWCA, I recognized a man driving a late model town car, idling as he prepared to make a left onto Elm. "Marra, look! That's the guy who was papering cars with his JFK conspiracy manifesto at the Giuliani Town Hall in Exeter!" I recognized the wrinkled blue pinstripe suit, the bad complexion, and yellow tinted hair. Looks like Marra, me and the crazy conspiracy theorist have the same itinerary. Should I have been scared?

There was already a small line outside the YWCA, and my heart sank. 35 minutes early, and we're not even inside on line. Fortunately, the doors had not opened yet, so we were actually among the first 20 or so attendees. I couldn't believe it. The presumptive nominee, former First Lady is speaking for free, and no one is really here yet? It's a free country, but let's not take that for granted, people! The place should have been packed.

Inside the lobby of the YWCA, we saw several of the ladies who had been working in the Hillary for President headquarters the day before. The lead woman from that office, Katie, was wandering around with her coffee and Dunkin' Donuts bag, looking important with her all-access pass around her neck. The two women who were inhaling the toxic spray paint fumes were looking well, too. We spoke briefly to those who remembered us. All of these women, however, were huddled together for the most part, chatting and watching the crowd swell to a dangerous size in the limited space. In contrast to the Obama operation, this crew seemed content to just be there. The Obama crew would have been working the crowd for volunteers, winning votes. It smelled of complacency, and it was disappointing. I already thought Hillary was coasting through the debates, playing defense, and now I see her staffers acting the same way. New Hampshirites can be fickle. She has a lead in the polls now, but she'd better step it up and get her team to step it up as well.

The crowd started in a line back from the door to the auditorium, but as the numbers grew, it became more of a senior citizen mosh pit. This was a work day and a school day, so retirees dominated the scene. And retirees do not like being pushed around by anyone looking to gain a better position on the floor, especially when the room heats up. And retirees will speak up when someone cuts in line. No profanity, but they were freely expressing their dismay about the Hillary for President team's ability to organize a room. That kind of stuff will influence a vote. Why didn't Katie and the girls see that and take charge? They just sipped coffee and shared donuts.

The rumor in the hall was that the Secret Service was holding things up, checking out the premises. They had to give the all clear before opening the room for us. Serious stuff, and a far cry from a John Edwards event, that's for sure. Finally, the room was cleared of threats (like regular people asking unscripted questions, right , Hillary?), and we were allowed to enter at 10:45 AM. Our early arrival paid off. We found ourselves with 2 open seats in the first row, right on the left hand corner of the stage behind the thick purple ropes. We could touch the stage with our hands. Of course, the Secret Service would shoot us if we tried, but the point is, we were close.

The room was a petite gymnasium, circa 1920. Polished brown cinder block walls, hardwood floors, high ceilings and natural light. It seated approximately 150, but there could have been more if not for the bank of TV cameras along the back wall. Everyone in our section was asked to sign a waiver stating that our likeness may be used in a future Hillary TV commercial. We were about to be propaganda props, and we signed away like lemmings. Anything to be on TV.

Senator Clinton was scheduled to speak at 10:30 AM, but she didn't grace the stage until 11:20. I chatted with an elderly gentleman to my left, a fountain of New Hampshire political information. He pointed out all the local and state dignitaries in the crowd, such as the Democratic mayoral candidate front and center. He also pointed out 2 NH Democratic giants standing together against the wall, Bill Shaheen, husband of former Governor Jean Shaheen, and Kathy Sullivan, chairperson of the state Democratic Party. I still regret not leaving my seat to have my picture taken with these two, but I do realize that I could be the only person that would ever care about such a photo. At that moment, I confirmed my political geekness. My seat neighbor also shared with me his brush with New Hampshire political lore. He was at the Town Hall meeting when Al Gore claimed to have invented the Internet. Now, this nice man was clear that Al Gore had said no such thing, but he watched and listened as those innocent comments at that event were spun into proof of Gore penchant for exaggerating his accomplishments. I wondered if Marra and I would be a part of something like that during our brief stay. A moment that would live beyond this election cycle - Muskie's tears, Dole's "Stop lying about my record", anything. Maybe we had already been at such a moment, and didn't know it yet.

Marra never opened her new book. She was absorbing the atmosphere. As I looked at her, I could tell that the excitement was building. Even the casual observer knows who Hillary Clinton is. I was glad we were so close with an unobstructed view.

At 11:20 AM, the Senator from New York mounted the stage in a finely tailored brown pants suit with a turquoise necklace and matching earrings. This was not your mother's pants suit, definitely not off the rack. Very flattering. She looked good. I will admit, my expectations were low. Frankly, I expected her to look older in person. She was almost 60, and had been through quite a tumultuous life to date. She was bright, energetic, and dare I say pretty. She was introduced by a single mom, struggling to make ends meet. The policy address was billed as a discussion of the next phases for the Family and Medical Leave Act, and this mom's story set the emotional mood.

As for the issues, she had lots to offer the masses. She proposed expanding FMLA to include paid leave and lowering the employer threshold to 25 employees (it is currently 50 employees, and leave is unpaid). She offered up $1 billion to start state initiatives around paid leave. California already has paid family leave for workers, and several states have proposals before their legislatures. She talked about her Model Workplace Initiative, using the federal workplace as a model for promoting flexible schedules and tele-commuting. She promoted more funds for Childcare Development Block Grants, and vowed to open access to these funds to stay at home moms. Her main applause point: if you are really pro-family, you'll be behind these types of programs for building and protecting the family (take that, Mitt Romney!).

Hillary finished her speech to the middle class the middle class, the middle class (the woman can stay on message), and walked off the stage to the theme of "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" by The Police (sorry, Tim). Hillary was headed our way, and we were in the front row. All the planning was going to pay off. I was going to get a picture of Marra with Hillary.

She walked right up to me and Marra, and I told her that we had traveled over 600 miles from Virginia to see her. She was very gracious and asked, "Would you like a picture with your daughter?" She's worked these rope lines before, she knew exactly what to do. She crouched behind Marra, placed both hands on her shoulders and smiled. Click. We have a winner! I also quickly shoved my notebook in her hands and got her autograph. Both Marra and I were busting. Hillary was the rock star of the candidate field, and we just got the handshake, the photo and the autograph. Politics aside, that's pretty neat.

As we were angling to escape the crush of other well-wishers, we turned to climb over some of the folding chairs. Just before Marra crawled out of the scrum, I grabbed her attention. "Marra, look who's there!" At this moment, the crazy JFK conspiracy guy was handing Mrs. Clinton a copy of his 5 page manifesto. I couldn't hear him speaking but I did hear Hillary say, "I'll be sure to take a look at this." For a fleeting second, I imagined we were going to be eyewitness to a George Wallace campaign moment. I'm glad I was wrong.

Event Number One with Hillary was complete. I will admit, her proposals seemed very Big Government, a far cry from Bill's heady days with the centrist DLC (Democratic Leadership Council) when he played down expanding the size of government. She lacked the passion of Edwards, but in some ways, the trappings of former First Lady made up for that by making her seem more "presidential". Between the security presence and the limited access to her, you got the feeling that she was already President. It takes a lot of passion to overcome that kind of a head start.

The day stalking Hillary had just begun. We still had questions to ask.

JS

Barack the House

It's easy for me to get caught up in the daily political currents and drift away from the world of day-to-day responsibilities and obligations. We had been in New Hampshire now for two and a half days. It was time to weigh anchor in reality, and that meant school homework for Marra and work emails for me. It also meant remembering those we had left behind, like our wife/mother and kids/siblings. We chose to procrastinate a few more minutes by shopping for family gifts.

I was having some regrets. In our rush on Sunday to be on time for Giuliani's Town Hall in Exeter, we did not spend any time shopping in Durham, home of the University of New Hampshire. We had briefly ducked into an off-campus store next to Young's Restaurant and saw all manner and variety of cool shirts, sweats and collectibles, all featuring the New Hampshire theme. I felt too pressured for time to make a smart buying decision, so we left empty handed. I wished Durham wasn't so far away, or I would have driven back. I was holding out hope that downtown Manchester would offer better, more unique, less tourist-y options.

Marra and I had scouted out 2 T-shirt shop options on Elm Street, but the T-Shirt Bodega sounded the most promising. A store that calls itself a 'bodega' will surely carry the type of personalized, out of the ordinary, subtle yet attention grabbing designs that say, "I'm an individual, and I have something to say!" I was about to be taught one of Murphy's axioms: Be careful what you wish for.

First of all, 'unique' equals 'overpriced'. This fact had little impact on Marra's shopping choices. Second, "bodega" is apparently a Spanish word for "rag". The hip style demanded that the clothing be so worn, thin and frayed that you could wear it during the day, use it to buff your car in the evening, and then blow on it like a dandelion to watch the threads spread out across the breeze. Disposable and eco-friendly.

"Attention grabbing designs" means political messaging on wedge issues that I had not directly addressed with my 11 year old. I was sticking with war, taxes, health care and the environment. The Bodega's shirts were targeting gay marriage, free speech in the form of profanity, and various Bob Marley causes. As Bill O'Reilly might say, they were "promoting their radical secular far left agenda on "us folks", the unsuspecting tourists.

I should not have been so shocked. The residents of the Live Free or Die state were not passive about their positions or opinions. We were learning a lot about New Hampshire during our stay. From my readings about the NH electorate, there were two competing groups, one represented by the working class, blue collar city dwellers and those in the North Country; the other known as the Elites, represented by those clustered near the universities and the Massachusetts border towns. In New Hampshire, car insurance is not required by law. Seat belts are only required for minor children. There is no sales tax. There is no income tax. The revolution to take back America will begin here, and this store is apparently run by free thinking revolutionary leaders. To win New Hampshire, you need a coalition of both the Elites and the Working Class. To sell T-shirts, Elites will do.

I talked Marra out of a $30 ratty T with an Apple logo on the front, and escaped without having to explain the meaning of the shirt picturing 2 woman holding hands. Isn't it enough that at age 11, she knows the term "Islamofascism"? Procrastination over - back to the Radisson for homework.

Marra poured over her math and social studies for almost 3 hours while sprawled on her Sleep Number bed. School work seemed a welcome respite from being shuttled all over a strange state in a minivan. After a Dennis Kucinich diatribe about the impact of global warring on eco-policy, even 6th grade math looks good.

We were still full from our late lunch at the Red Arrow, so we decided to check out Obama headquarters before dinner. We were really disappointed that we weren't going to see him in person. Several people at earlier events that heard our story asked if we would be hearing Barack in person. Each one praised his infectious energy, his passion and his elocution. If he is this generation's JFK as a speaker, we really missed an opportunity. Field office visit would have to suffice.

It was just beginning to get dark when we pulled up at Obama headquarters. It was only 2 miles from the hotel, down past the Romney and Dodd locations, but further off the main drag. The office was a brightly lit second floor of a building in an industrial area, the kind of area where they take your car after it gets towed away. Chain link, sparse street lights, the occasional barking dog. I wasn't scared...

At the top of the stairs, we rounded the corner and came to a plain open entrance. A woman was sitting behind a small card table sized desk, obviously the gatekeeper; however, the room was wide open, maybe 30' by 20', with 4 volunteers at separate desks working the phones. We could hear all their secrets! The gatekeeper listened to our story with suspicious ears, and asked me to wait while she found someone to help us. This was a new experience. At all the other campaign office stops, we had the upper hand, the element of surprise. We controlled the conversation, we wandered where we chose to wander. This was more like visiting a business. We needed an escort on the premises.

We were introduced to Garrett, one of the field volunteers. Finally, a person of color in lily white New Hampshire! Garrett should run for office himself. He had a presence as he spoke, a genuine enthusiasm for his candidate, and a deep understanding of Obama's message. He was happy to answer all of our questions, and made it a point to personally introduce us to just about everyone working that evening. And there were a lot of people volunteering, maybe 20 in all. He showed us the political research section, the voter turnout section, and he introduced us to Jack, the state Field Director. The place was humming. We were part of the wave now. Garrett was sucking us into the World of Barack.

Garrett and I spoke about the recent Senate resolution labeling part of the Iranian army as a terrorist organization. I asked where Obama stood on this issue. We had already heard Edwards rip into Hillary for voting in favor of the resolution. According to Edwards, Hillary was giving Bush an excuse to move militarily against Iran in the future. Edwards said Obama missed the vote, and I wanted to know why. Garrett said that the resolution was non-binding, and that the Senator believes that these types of contrived votes that are non-binding serve only political purposes, and distract the Senate from doing the people's work. (Sounded good, but I have not heard Obama use that defense for missing the vote since that time.)

Garrett also invoked the memory of JFK to us, comparing Obama's rise in popularity and his calls to sacrifice and action among the youth of America to the former President's ability to connect with the disenfranchised. I had to then caution young Garrett. Careful with the JFK comparisons. JFK made many foreign policy mistakes during his brief tenure in the Oval Office. We romanticize his Presidency now, but at that time, his legacy was far from secure. If I have figured that out, I am sure Hillary has, too.

The final close of the sale was Garrett's invitation for Marra to sign the wall. Throughout the entire area where the staffers worked on behalf of their candidate, the walls were covered with either campaign posters or signatures. Every dignitary and every volunteer that helped the Obama cause had their autograph on the wall - and the walls were full of signatures. It was powerful in its simple message of belonging to something bigger, and Marra gladly accepted the Sharpie and signed. She was now forever part of Obama Nation, New Hampshire 2008. I signed ,too.

On the way out, we asked if we could have one of the call scripts that the volunteers were using. The call script outlined the exact message being delivered in every call being made. We wanted to review it at a later date. We had already been treated to 30 minutes of dialogue, handshakes and smiles, and we wanted to let them get back to the candidate's business. Armed with posters, stickers, buttons and call scripts, we left Team Barack.

As Marra and I walked out into the hallway, I said, "Marra, so tell me which was the best headquarters operation you saw today." Her response without hesitation, "Was it even close?" She was right. Right then and there, give us a ballot and we might have pulled the lever for Senator Barack Obama. If he could inspire that type of following, if the people in that room represent Barack Obama's America, then count us in.

Our visit convinced me that he has a chance in New Hampshire with the Elites. And if he wins the Elites, he could carry the state. The real question is whether the Elite sensibilities of the T-Shirt Bodega shoppers will translate to votes in South Carolina, Nevada and beyond. The Obama Revolution to take back America may end here, but just for 2008.

JS

Nothing Could Be Finer Than Being in Your Diner

Time to eat.

I wanted to completely submerge us in the warm waters of NH political history while in Manchester, so that meant diving into a meal at the Red Arrow Diner. The Red Arrow, besides being voted one of the Top Ten Diners in America, has had a rich legacy as rest stop for the rich and powerful. Here, it would be easy to share an intimate moment with an aspiring Presidential candidate or B-list entertainment figure.

Once inside, the diner fit us like a glove - mitten is probably a stronger image. We customers were the little fingers all pressed together against the New England chill outside. The entryway was the size of a phone booth, so you had to hang onto your wallet as you passed satisfied patrons leaving the eatery. The interior consisted primarily of a long, narrow sandwich counter lined with low swivel stools. There was a small section of five booths just to the right of the front register. I was reminded of the diner in "The Blob", starring Steve McQueen, the diner completely covered by the alien amoeba at the end of the movie. The decor was a cacophony of red and silver, broken by unpretentious marketing for Red Arrow gear. Coffee mugs, T-shirts, sweats were all available in a variety of colors and sizes. Don't forget to try the home baked Twinkies or the signature Moon Pies.

The diner was full and busy, but we were the only ones waiting for a seat. The hometown atmosphere hung in the air, from the Red Sox caps to the accents to the smells of fresh baked goods. I had a sense that everyone in the restaurant knew each other, like they were sitting and chatting in the owner's private kitchen. We felt welcomed into their underground club.

The middle window booth vacated almost immediately. We were comfortable enough to start clearing the table ourselves. Maybe we were just ready to sit and eat. Marra slid into the booth, right next to the stenciled words on the booth back: Adam Sandler Sat Here. Not a candidate for Leader of the Free World, but pretty cool nonetheless. Marra began to giggle and said, "Daddy, look. Bare Naked Ladies sat over there." I explained that BNL was a band, but it didn't quiet our laughter. Bare naked ladies had sat in this diner and had a meal. I hope they at least had napkins on their laps.

We ordered traditional diner fare. I had home style fried chicken with slaw. Marra ordered the children's portion mac n' cheese. This was a significant moment. Perhaps you parents out there remember your child's awkward transition from kid's menu to adult menu. Child believes children's menu is for babies. You think adult menu is too expensive and portions are too large. You give in so child feels grown up. Child then doesn't eat the entire meal, and you're stuck with the larger bill and the wasted food. Child does not learn this lesson the first time, so you give in a second time, hoping that today is the day she eats the whole adult meal. No. And the larger check comes again. "If she would only get passed the children's menu stigma," you silently pray.

On this day, Marra ordered the appropriate portion size, without as much as a hint from Daddy. Ordering from the kid's menu for Marra was a very adult decision to make. As a reward, I insisted that she not get the cup with a lid. I think Marra noticed.

We regrouped. Marra was still interested in Edwards. She liked his "No Nukes" pledge. She did not like Romney, although I didn't know why. We had only seen his local headquarters. She told me, "He's mean." She mocked his voice, "When Republicans start acting like Democrats, Republicans lose." That's from one of Romney's NH ads. I guess it ran a few times on TV during the trip, and Marra nailed the text cold. I was finding that whenever any candidate spoke negatively about another candidate, she really picked up on that instinctively, and it turned her off. Pollsters will tell us that negative ads work. They never polled the pre-teen crowd.

I wanted to get Marra focused on the next day with Hillary. We had 4 chances to see her tomorrow, which meant 4 opportunities to ask a question. Marra's question: "Why do you keep acting like George Bush?"

"Marra, what are you talking about? Hillary is many things, but she's not exactly George Bush."

She replied, "But that's not what Edwards said." OK, I thought, I'd be interested to read in the NY Times about the upstart pixie who challenged the former First Lady's record versus the Bush record, and dragged Hillary into a fight with Edwards. I encouraged her to think of another possible question, just in case. I already had several.

We finished up and paid the woman who was the same woman prominently pictured on the wall sitting on Al Gore's lap, and bought a Twinkie for the road. Everyone in town seemed to be close at one time or another to the vagabond candidates who trolled for votes every 4 years up here. And now we were, too.

JS

Shifting from Left to Right

To maintain my balanced presentation of all candidates and all views, I felt that a visit to Giuliani headquarters was necessary next. According to the media, he is the anti-Hillary, and his headquarters was just down the block another mile or so. Marra needed to know that I was still open to other positions, and what better way to to do than a trip to the GOP front runners home base. My guess was that all women and pink walls would not be what we found. I was betting on a combination of Yankees blue and Republican state red.

Rudy's campaign office was easy to find - right on Elm Street, same as our hotel, only a couple miles north. I saw it on the left at the last minute, and continued to the next traffic light to make a safe u-turn. While idling at the light, I noticed a Victorian home with a lawn covered in Fred Thompson signs. These were the first advertising Thompson that we had seen during the trip. I was feeling adventurous. "Marra, I think we're going to make another stop before going to Giuliani headquarters. I think that house over there might be Fred Thompson headquarters."

To prove to all you readers how late Fred was in entering the game, even Marra didn't know who he was. "Who's Fred Thompson?"

"He's the former Senator from Tennessee, and now he does TV and movies."

"So he's an actor not a President." Marra is very quick on the uptake. From what little I had seen, read and heard, she was correct in her assessment. But, we're open-minded...

We pulled into a small 4 car parking lot to the left of the house. As we got closer, we realized that this old house served as a law office. Right now, it looked to also be pulling double duty as Thompson's Manchester headquarters. I might not have GPS in the car, but I can hone in on obscure political offices pretty good (except for that pesky Paul's office!).

I walked Marra up the stone steps, explaining Fred's place in the continuum of political ideas. I told her that he is a Federalist, and that means he is usually against the government doing anything to encroach on the lives of private citizens. Kind of a mainstream Ron Paul, if you will, with the notable exception their deep foreign policy differences. Marra always asked the candidate's position on the Iraq War, and I said that he is in favor of continuing our role there. She said nothing, but I was sure that she was crossing his name off of her mental short list as we walked.

We didn't knock. We entered the main hallway, and it was like an abandoned B&B inside. Narrow halls, grand stair case front and center, Colonial style. Our voices echoed off the plaster walls. "Hello? Hello?" We creaked along the hardwood floor down the hallway toward the back of the house. Some office furniture appeared to have current equipment on it, like modern phones and computers, so at least we knew we weren't just wandering through someone's private residence.

Halfway through the main level, a heavy set gentleman appeared, and we introduced ourselves. He confirmed that we had indeed discovered the newly opened Thompson 2008 campaign office. I only had one question for him. "When is Fred coming to New Hampshire? Looks like he isn't planning to compete here." This is a big New Hampshire issue. If the populace thinks that you are not taking them and their "rightful" place as first in the nation primary seriously, you are dead in the water. Thompson already had the reputation of being a lazy campaigner, and rumors were that his heart wasn't in the race to begin with. He had cancelled scheduled NH visits in October, so people were suspicious.

Our host did not have a good answer. "We're working on some dates now, he'll be here." Not very convincing, given his track record. His headquarters looked a perfect metaphor for his candidacy - old, tired, hollow, and in some disarray. The office and his campaign needed some immediate sprucing up, and our host didn't seem up to either task. We asked for our token photo op behind a desk, and then got out of there. Truth be told, it was a little creepy. I'll give him this, though - the card stock for his campaign signage is far superior to his competitors. The signs should last longer than his chances in New Hampshire.

We got back in the car and drove the 200 feet to park in front of the office building housing the Rudy juggernaut. Nice big sign in front, and the office exterior was a big improvement from the "This Old House" fixer-upper we had just visited. It was glass and brick, a home for insurance offices, doctors, and Team Rudy.

The office was on the first floor, a hard right (I'm sure he planned that) off the lobby. It was small, but at least the few people (4) there were working the phones. Dave came up first, and we shared our story for the 6th time that morning (7th, if you count the old woman at the Visitor's Center). Dave did not seem impressed, but he had a kind of Eeyore-like infectious enthusiasm that was hard to ignore. As we chatted, I think he might have dozed off a few times. He could recite many of the Giuliani stump speech platitudes, like "low taxes stimulate growth" and "the proven leadership to fight Islamo-fascism". I wanted to point out that Rudy didn't actually fight the terrorists on 9-11, he just led the clean up effort, but I'm not sure that would have gotten through Dave's concrete exterior.

As he spoke, I kept hearing the New Yorker volunteer behind me working the phones. She had energy, she had enthusiasm, she oozed New York. Olive skin, thick jet black hair, dark red lipstick, fashionable shoes. A touch of Fran Drescher. Not a native of the Granite State, that's for sure. She appeared to be everything Dave was not. I wanted Marra to talk to her.

When the woman put down the phone, I interrupted Dave's droning with, "Excuse me, but we'd really like to speak to this woman about what she is doing." I introduced myself and Marra, and the volunteer explained her task for the afternoon. She was calling potential volunteers to help raise Rudy awareness. She stopped by on her lunch hours to support her Mayor. She found Giuliani's stand on issues to be well-thought out and nuanced. She said, "He sees shades of gray with his positions, everything isn't so black and white. I like that." This was our first regular person doing their part to support the candidate of their choice. Here was an example I wanted Marra to see.

We got our picture and headed for a well-deserved lunch. We had a lot to process. You can learn much about a candidate by visiting their headquarters, and we had formed some opinions. We still had one more office on our list for the day - Barack Obama. Back to the left we'd go!

JS

Giuliani's White Whale

Reprinted from www.nh2008.blogspot.com. Written by Brian Lawson, aka Cosmo. Well done, so I wanted to share this glimpse into the next phase of the campaign cycle:

How he flashed at me!--his eyes like powder-pans! Is he mad? Anyway there's something on his mind, as sure as there must be something on a deck when it cracks. -Moby Dick

Herman Melville’s epic novel, Moby Dick, is a story centered on an obsessed whaling boat captain who wants to kill the white whale that took his leg. It appears that Rudy Giuliani has discovered his Moby Dick. That is, a character who he has become obsessed with.

While campaigning in northern New Hampshire, Giuliani made it a point to criticize Hillary Clinton at every event. The trip began with a stop at the diner Northern Exposure, which features a menu showing a moose exposing himself. In response to a question on allowing illegal immigrants to have driving licenses, Giuliani took direct aim at the New York Senator.

“Hillary was against it and for it and then partially for it and partially against it, all in the same answer within a minute.” While answering the question, the diner’s phone rang and Giuliani said, “maybe she’s calling right now to change her position.” “Her positions change more frequently than anybody I've ever seen in politics. I remember, last time, John Kerry used to be accused of being a flip-flopper. S he makes him look like an amateur. I mean he does look like an amateur, when compared to Hillary.” Giuliani said. He added, “I don’t know what she’s thinking trying to be all things to all people.”

At his next event in Dixville Notch, Giuliani criticized Clinton’s healthcare proposal saying, “socialized medicine would be a shame.” Rudy expanded his criticism to include all of the Democratic presidential candidates. He told the crowd of 50 people that the nation should remain “on offense against the socialistic ideas that the Democrats are purposing.”

During the question-and-answer part of the Shelburne town hall meeting, Giuliani was again asked about the driving license issue. Giuliani, openly mocking Clinton’s response, told the crowd “raise your hands and tell me what you think.”“Oh, gee, I can't figure out what to think. Don't pick on me by asking me that question. That's a gotcha' question.” “If you think a question about driver's licenses is a tough question, a gotcha' question, you're not ready for Ahmadinejad,” Giuliani said.

The Republican presidential candidate ended his visit to New Hampshire’s North Country with a stop at the Dairy Bar. There Giuliani was greeted by 15 supporters and again was asked about Hillary’s stance on driving licenses for illegal immigrants. “I’ve never seen that before. I’ve seen her take different positions in front of different groups. But I’ve never seen her take two different positions before the same audience,” he responded.

Returning to his theme of experience, Giuliani said, “If you can’t answer a question on driving licenses, what the heck you’re doing running for president.”

Rudy should beware of the consequences of focusing so much attention Hillary Clinton. At the end of the classic Melville novel, Captain Ahab was dragged into the ocean depths, by his archenemy.

The Heiress of Inevitability

We spent about 15 minutes wandering through the back alleys of Manchester near Elm Street looking up for any sign of the Ron Paul for President headquarters to no avail. Paul had the most lawn signs posted across the state in our unscientific counting, but his Manchester office was apparently a well kept secret. He is the true rock star persona in this campaign, so this was a big disappointment for us. Someday a Ron Paul for President button might fetch a fair price on eBay, but it was not to be. We're off to Hillaryville! We're pretty sure that will be easier to find.

The Clinton headquarters was very close to Edwards, maybe 10 blocks. Her office was tucked behind some trees off Elm Street towards the river in a miniature business park. There was no missing this one - a huge "New Hampshire for Hillary" sign graced the building front. I waited in the car to jot down some notes about our day thus far, and Marra insisted on jumping out to take a picture. I had been pretty stingy with the camera, not allowing her to take anywhere near as many pictures as she had wanted. It's hard to break the habit of worrying about running out of film, even when we've had a digital camera for years. So I let her go ahead.

She was back in moments. "There were some women watching me when I was taking the picture." "Of course there were," I thought to myself. "They think you're a spy from the Obama camp." I guess when you believe you are the inevitable nominee and odds on favorite to be the next President of the United States, it never hurts to breed a little paranoia amongst the worker bees. More members of the vast right and left conspiracies coming to photograph the operation.

As we walked in the front door, there were two women spray painting pro-Hillary bedsheets for some future rally backdrop. The entire enclosed entryway smelled of the toxic fumes. Surely the Senator from New York wouldn't allow even the undocumented among us exposure to such poisons in an enclosed space. Maybe we should film this blatant OSHA violation and sell it to the highest GOP bidder (unless Edwards was interested first). The poor paint crew seemed happy enough, though, and they directed us up a staircase to the main office. Maybe they were too happy. We hoped they'd still be breathing when we returned.

At the top of the stair, we were in Hillaryville. Pink walls and signs, signs, signs everywhere. Two women were pouring over a computer screen discussing either Hillary's plan for world peace or the correct font for their on-screen flier. Based on the intensity of their focus, could have been either one. A tall woman with straight black hair emerged from behind a wall of signs to intercept us. She introduced herself as Katie Sullivan, the head of this field office for the campaign. I say the "head" because her exact title and authority was unclear, but she did take charge of Marra and me. Once again, I told our amazing story of traveling 600 miles from Virginia just to see the candidates and process up close, and accepted their sincere "oohs" and "ahhs" and "that's so cool"s.

Believe it or not, that was about it. No one was interested in engaging us in policy discussion. No one seemed interested in giving us a quick tour. There were uncomfortable silences, like we were on some kind of blind date that wasn't working out so well. We had had such luck with all the other office visits, good conversations. We both felt like we learned some at each stop. Not so here. I asked if I could take Marra's picture at one of the desks, and Katie readily agreed. I asked for a campaign sign, and they had none to spare. That's a good thing, I thought. It means they are being used to drum up buzz and support. I'll bet the Dodd camp wishes they had the same problem. They had enough extra signs to line the road all the way to Des Moines and back.

We told the staffers that we would be following Hillary's itinerary the next day, beginning with her policy speech at the Manchester YWCA, and they smiled, "Great!" OK, I guess you're busy, so we left down the stairs. As we descended, I pointed out to Marra the large black and white head shot of Hillary facing us. Marra said, "It looks like Princess Diana." And it did. It was, frankly, kind of eerie to have this large glamour shot portrait staring us down as we left the office. I could have sworn the eyes were following us. Stereotypically Orwellian.

The ladies at the bottom of the stairs had stepped away from the painted sheets, hopefully inhaling some of that delicious, crisp New Hampshire fall air. After that visit, I think we all needed to breath some fresh air.

Once in the car, Marra commented, "There were all women working for Hillary."

"There were women in the Romney office, too," I replied.

"Yes, but they didn't speak."

Another feminist victory.

JS

"Who Do You Trust?"

After attending 2 Edwards events in 2 days and experiencing the candidate's energy up close, our expectations for his Manchester operations were high. We needed a lift after 2 mediocre visits to the Romney and Dodd offices. When you are this close to the political playing field, you want to feel the electricity.

We backtracked to the center of town, a few blocks from our hotel, to find the Edwards '08 office down a busy side street off Elm Street. The circa 1930s buildings were home to overpriced art boutiques and hidden ethnic restaurants street level, and law offices scattered across the 2nd floors. This was a higher rent district with lower visibility than our previous stops. Our destination was down a poorly lit narrow hallway badly in need of a fresh coat of paint. Handmade "Edwards for President" signs lined the hall. Inside, it had a much more low rent feel. I'm glad it was daytime.

Upon entering, it was clear that this operation was much more compact, and work appeared to be happening. Good sign for Edwards. Maybe the staff just knew that the boss was in town. That always motivates workers. The room was about 25 feet square, and looked like a regular office space with white boards on the walls and several desks either along the wall or in the center, back to back.

We were greeted by Matt and Ben, but others were doing their own thing, ignoring the distractions that were interrupting their efforts. Matt took the lead. I told him our story again (I was getting good at my 'elevator' speech), and expressed my doubts about Edwards right away. "Everyone has a bold plan for everything, but Edwards self described "bold" plan for tax reform doesn't seem that bold to me. Soak the Rich is not a bold plan for tax reform."

Poor Matt, all of about 21, did his best. Without directly confronting the candidate on this issue, however, I was not going to leave satisfied. He told me what I already knew - that the plan included rolling back the Bush tax cut for those making over $200,000 (I'm safe there, but that doesn't make it wise policy), and raising the capital gains tax from 15% to 27%. The Republican counterargument rings true in this case to me, that a higher cap gains tax will mean less investment and will hurt everyone in the long run. This kid was barely legal to drink, so I was not about to debate capital gains tax rates with him.

I asked him the Giuliani question - does Edwards have the executive experience to enact anything he is proposing? He only served one term in the Senate, and, as Giuliani pointed out, he has never run anything other than a law practice. I granted him that Edwards was staking out a real, tangible leadership position on many issues important to me, and his populist rhetoric was beginning to resonate with me. But was that enough when choosing leader of the free world?

Matt began a rant against the entrenched main stream media having a bias against his candidate, but I had to cut him off. Both liberals and conservatives LOVE to rail against the media because they are a politically convenient target. It's easier to blame NBC News than examine why your message is not changing voter's minds. In a polite way, I said, "Don't try selling me that line, I'm not buying."

Marra was absorbing all of this, sometimes without me knowing. Her eyes were darting all around the space, but her ears were present in the conversation. She seemed interested, not just indulging her old man. I think part of this interest right now was because she was leaning Edwards.

We asked for permission to have Marra's picture taken with Ben the Staffer in front of the white board that had campaign goals written on it. I assured them that I was not taking pictures in order to steal ideas for other candidates, and they assured me that there wasn't anything confidential in the office I could steal. In a way, that was disappointing. I was hoping that some new strategy memo would fall into our hands, accidentally of course.

Ben was nice enough to give us directions to the Ron Paul office, which he said was nearby down some alley. We joked about whether it would be safe to bring an 11 year old in contact with the Paul Crazies, but I really wanted to hear their case. Paul devotees have passion for their candidate, that's for sure.

We had already collected a poster from the Town Hall meeting in Tilton, so we loaded up on stickers instead.

We left, but there was a sense of loss. We had seen Edwards twice, visited the headquarters, but no direct questions. I was lamenting that fact especially because Marra seemed so taken with him. That's OK. We were on vacation, right?

JS