You don't believe I'll fight, you can meet me tomorrow night

Deadlines devour my life again. Yesterday I took time in the evening to pick up a DVD from Robbins Library in Arlington Center—John Cromwell's Caged (1950), a classic women's prison noir which I desire to watch for both research and pleasure—only to discover when I got there that the library's copy had gone missing, possibly as much as two years ago. Tonight I have plans to attend a local Democratic caucus, which is almost certainly the most politically organized thing I have done beyond registering in the first place. (I am not running. I just really want that ethical artichoke in 2018.) Before then, I have to make another deadline.

Courtesy of this conversation, please enjoy album art for this household's favorite indie band:



Photo credit, Rob Noyes. Design, Steve Berlin. Cats, Autolycus and Hestia.

Nobody likes a candidate whose name they can't spell

So I went to that local Democratic caucus tonight and now I am the first alternate female/gender-neutral delegate for Ward 4 of Somerville to the Massachusetts Democratic State Convention in June. I think I ran after all.

I did not make the cut as an actual delegate. I got sixteen votes in the gender-neutral category on a two-minute platform composed of self-identifying as a queer poly Jewish writer and describing my fervent desire to replace Governor Baker with an ethical artichoke or, if we want to get really freaky, an actual human being with a sense of ethics.* The winner got eighteen votes on a platform composed of actually being involved in local politics. When the voting came back around to the alternate delegates, also divided by gender, I was one of two winners in a close three-person election, eighteen votes each and seventeen for the runner-up. I think I did not do badly considering everyone else in our corner of the cafeteria was a total stranger to me. (I knew some people in other wards, but they were either in their own corners of the cafeteria or had left the room. The fact that this was all happening in a high school cafeteria, by the by, made me feel I should have brought a three-fold poster board at the least.) I am also amazed that our political system really does allow any yahoo to walk in off the street, talk about vegetables, and get sent to a convention center in Worcester with the potential to influence state elections. Admittedly in my case that will happen only if any of the actual delegates become unable to vote on the day, which I do not hope for since they were all very nice, politically committed people; in all likelihood my experience of this year's convention will consist of listening to politicians bloviate, not voting, and going home. In the meantime I think I am bound to attend a bunch of ward committee meetings and should probably buy some better clothes.

In conclusion: democracy! Jeez.

* Literally I did this. "Replace Governor Baker with an artichoke" is now a valid, proven political platform.