August 29, 2008

Getting out of my hotel this morning was pretty smooth. I packed way too much stuff, so yesterday I sent a box home via UPS Ground to meet me upon my return to Brooklyn. Unfortunately, my bags still are unwieldy, but better than they were (particularly since I would have had to carry that extra “convention stuff” as well).

My itinerary calls for me to take a Greyhound bus from Denver to Kansas City – the ride is a little less than 12 hours. I have not done that for awhile, but that’s why I’m taking this trip. Reminding myself a bit of the America outside New York City is important to me and my political perspective.

As I zip up the bags, CNN is breaking the news that Alaska Governor Sarah Palin is John McCain’s pick as a running mate. It’s a shocker, frankly. Not that he picked a woman; I sort of expected that as a response to the “Hillary” factor. No one seems to have really expected this particular woman, however. She’s even younger than Barack Obama (making me feel even older) and her experience in office is minimal, if impressive. The A Mayor and a Governor in a very interesting state. Palin is also clearly anti-choice and pro-gun. The latter won’t hurt her with too many Democratic women; the former is a big deal. This should be even more fascinating than I anticipated.

For a second I consider one last ride in a pedicab. I love them and there were a number that were active during Convention week in Denver. I took one several times, even befriending a driver who turned out to be a former New Yorker (Queens). It seems to me that every major city should be encouraging pedicabs as an environmentally friendly and civically friendly mode of travel – particularly in downtown areas. In New York, of course, all the boroughs should be included for pedicab access. There will still be plenty of passengers for taxicabs. Given my luggage, however, I decide against the pedicab and go for the usual … and it’s a smooth pickup and landing.

The Denver Greyhound station is a touch seedy – it seems most Greyhound stations are. I arrive an hour before the bus leaves and there is already a line at the gate for my bus. The population of the station is very working class as well as some young people. There are many Hispanics – one group looks like an entire family traveling with very little luggage. The bus will continue on to St. Louis so I’m not sure who is going where.

Some stereotypes come to life. One big round white guy with almost no teeth (but carrying a laptop) comes into the space with an attitude. He and his two trashy friends talk loud and use plenty of profanity. I smell trouble immediately. To make a long story short, Beefy Boy gets into a confrontation with a black flak-jacketed Homeland Security guy (“Commando Man”) because Beefy Boy is flashing a laser pointer around the bus station! If I didn’t know that was a felony before, I know now … and so does he! But somehow I think he’s going to do it again somewhere …

The overhead TVs have FOXNews on. The press conference introducing Palin has started. There is much fanfare and, clearly, the Republicans are excited. Uh-oh! Palin is cute! Yes, I measure the “cute” factor for both male and female politicians. Obama is clearly cute in the eyes of many women – particularly white women. I think Palin might pass the cute test with many men. Why does this matter? Because I think racism can trump sexism for those white Democrats who can’t wrap their heads around Obama.

Delegate after delegate indicated their fear of racism in the General Election. It seems that any excuse may be used by some folk. If Hillary were the nominee, I believe that the same issue would have existed for her – some folks would not be able to handle a woman President and would use any excuse to vote against her. Along come the Republicans and put a woman VP on the table who has many kids, a record of childhood achievements and adult political successes, a husband who races “snow machines” … and perky personality and winning smile. This could be trouble. Take it from me.

One advantage might be Palin’s voice … it’s not the most pleasing to the ear … but then again, I am a musician with particular tastes (elitist?). Not everyone can be as mellifluous as Obama.

We get on the bus – there is not an empty seat. The brother behind me is a loud-talking dude who likes to think out loud. When he decided to sit behind me, I pointedly asked him not to talk too loud because I had work to do. Fortunately, he did not freak out. I felt sorry for the white chick who had to sit next to him, however.

The trip is long, but not oppressive. My seatmate is a gentleman from Atlanta who came to Denver to continue his work on a documentary about the impact of Dr. King’s life on America and American politics. Willie is a former sculptor, teacher, and husband (yes, former). He is now immersed in various media projects. Given my painful history with attempts to launch Black-owned media, we have plenty to discuss. Willie, unfortunately, also did the two-day bus ride from Atlanta to Denver to save money.

We’re practically the same age, Willie and I, and we marvel at our lives and the events that have just concluded in Denver. It still seems like a dream, but each of us has documented a portion of it in a different way. And each of us is inspired.

The trip is long, but we take breaks. At one stop, near Salina, Kansas, I pick up the local newspaper and see a big article about how Kansas is putting information about local judges on-line for review by the people. This is wild! I live in the most “progressive” state in America and am fighting to improve the integrity of the judicial system in Brooklyn, New York, and here are the good folks of Kansas making us look silly. I clip the article for use back home. Learn something new EVERY day …

As darkness closes in, we see the windmills. We are on I-70 and the landscape is not exactly exciting (thought they sky is beautiful). Suddenly, like large ghostly aliens, these windmills appear along the highway. They are beautifully unnerving. Willie and I discuss our nation’s energy future. I recall having seen windmills in America for the first time back in 1984 while driving near Bakersfield, California.

The sky grows dark. We arrive in Kansas City exactly on schedule (I’ll give Greyhound credit on that point) and one of my oldest friends, Janice, is waiting to pick me up. Janice and I were high school classmates and have remained friends since then. She’s good people. Her husband is a solid and good man, and their two kids are smart, creative and beautiful. The oldest, Christine, is about to start her sophomore year in college. I remember when she was born … mmmm … mmmm … mmmmm … Janice and I stay up and talk for nearly three hours.