It has been four months since I last wrote a blog post. As a WordPress trainer, that is certainly nothing for me to be proud of. Yet something happened this morning that makes it imperative that I post something this last day of 2011.
Allow me to provide some background for this post. One evening earlier this week, while peacefully reading the newspaper, I received a phone call. I answered the phone with, “Hello?” Silence. “Hello?” Finally I heard a click, and a live human voice came on the line. Yet another political pollster, I thought to myself. The man mumbled something about having breakfast with Mitt Romney. Having received similar phone soliciations for events in Manchester or Nashua, and being unwilling to drive an hour, I immediately replied with “I’m not interested.” Then I realized the man on the other end of the phone mentioned The Old Salt in Hampton, which is a mere seven miles away. So I changed my tune and replied that I would be in attendance.
I mused about all the questions I would ask Mitt. What will you do your first month in office? Where do you really stand on gay marriage? In the days that followed, I was getting more and more excited about the prospect of experiencing New Hampshire primary politics first-hand.
I moved to the Granite State twelve years ago. At first the political phone calls annoyed me. Then I realized that it was a great privilege to be a part of the New Hampshire political process, and I started treating the phone callers with more civility. Over the years I have participated in various polls and questionnaires, and I take them with increasing seriousness. Having been born in Washington, D.C., and having lived there for a large chunk of my young adulthood, I am painfully aware of being a resident of one part of America that has absolutely no voting representation in Congress. (As a side note, this is a situation that must be addressed once and for all. It is totally unacceptable.) Since moving to New Hampshire I have relished my political influence as never before.
With great anticipation, I drove this morning to The Old Salt, a restaurant that I know and love. I got there ten minutes early … and I could not believe how full the parking lot already was. It felt as if I was parking in the next county, as I walked from where I left my car. I got to the restaurant, and the main entrance had a sign advising me to use a side entrance. There were protesters along the route providing some predictable comic relief. I got to the prescribed entrance, and the place was packed. There were three people registering newcomers, and I explained that I had received a phone call. They found my name and waved me in … into the crammed restaurant.
Now mind you, The Old Salt is a large restaurant with several large separate rooms. They were packed to the gills. This was not what I was expecting. No, I wasn’t expecting a private audience with Mitt, either, but it became painfully clear that I was not going to be bending his ear at all.
So much for breakfast with Mitt at The Old Salt. I maneuvered my way to the coffee urns. Empty. Nary a drop. And the people that were actually fortunate enough to be seated at the tables had bagels or Danish or something, but nothing that I would classify as “breakfast.”
I found an underpopulated place to stand next to a loudspeaker—a loudspeaker that had an annoying habit of cutting off and them coming back on again, alternating from popular hits to country music that seemed oddly out of place in New Hampshire. Several speakers spoke first, and then Mitt Romney got the mike.
Having recently read an article in The Wall Street Journal about the specific steps Newt Gingrich would take to turn around our economy, I was eager to hear what Mitt had to propose. Instead, what I got was a lot of pablum about his parents, how they met, how they are great Americans, how he is a great American, how he is a great family man, how the Obama administration has been an abject failure, and yet how Obama is a good man, just not a good president.
In other words, I got nothing.
Zilch.
Nada.
Is this really what it means to be a New Hampshire independent voter? Is this really what the presidential primary process is all about? There were rooms full of adoring sycophants … and me. I joined in the applause where it was warranted, and I abstained where it was nothing more than hype.
Mitt, if I may be so bold, allow me to give you some words of advice. I recognize that, at a 44% approval rating, you are likely to be New Hampshire’s choice come January 10. And I promise you that if you are elected president next November, you will be my president. None of this I didn’t vote for you nonsense. But you would do well to heed the following.
First of all, provide some substance! My breath was taken away by how desperately vapid your words were. You said nothing. And it took you twenty minutes to do so. I am sure you are a wonderful family man. I am equally sure that my gay and lesbian friends in committed relationships are equally wonderful family men and women. It pains me every time I hear you disparage your GLBT constituents. And being the former governor of the first state to legalize gay marriage, you really should know better.
And what about the economy? What I read about Gingrich was much more specific about what he would do. And Ron Paul definitely gets my attention with his focus on limiting the size and scope of federal government. To his credit, I have never heard Mr. Paul utter a single antigay sentiment, although I suspect that he is not a fan, to put it mildly. Thank you, Ron, for your silence.
And curse you, Mitt, for your blathering on about “family values,” disregarding that GLBT people have families, too.
So why am I making such a big deal about “The Gay Issue”? Frankly, it’s because I lean much more Republican than Democrat, and I’d love to see the Republican party actually win in 2012. Your antigay snipes may (sadly) help you win the Republican nomination; they will just as surely lead to your losing the general election.
Ask any young person today. They know. They have friends who are gay. And they know that they are not demons. Instead, many of them are already living in committed relationships with their loved ones. These are the “families” that you are disparaging every time you mention anything antigay. If you want to win the younger vote, I advise you to cease and desist! Personally, I’d love to convince you that GLBT people are just as concerned about the direction this country is heading as anyone. At the very least, simply shut up!
Finally, whoever organized this “Breakfast with Mitt” at The Old Salt, shame on you! I felt that I was a “registered” participant, and yet I did not get a seat at the table, as it were. The place was crawling with people, certainly not the setting I was hoping for. So much for participating in the New Hampshire primary privilege.
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