What Will Rogers Said

Caucuses in non-Presidential election years are events no one attends. In my precinct, we barely had enough to fill delegate slots, plus one alternate—me. I told the delegates they better show up, but such bluster was pointless. New to this, I didn’t know alternates must attend the county assembly also.

For that assembly, South High’s large gym was packed with registration lines snaking the length of it. The woman in front of me moved here from Alabama. “I was so glad to get out of there,” she said. Alabama instituted voter I.D. she refused to use. She brought a utility bill, a small protest. “You can’t vote with that,” they’d say. “Oh, yes I can,” she’d reply sweetly, showing them the law.

We shuffled forward, clearly weren’t starting on time. An older gentleman behind me asked, “you know what Will Rogers said?” Campaign folk worked the lines. I learned about A.G. candidate Phil Weiser, who sounded good. Dems haven’t had the A.G. since Ken Salazar and A.G.s around the country are resisting Trump initiatives, but not ours.

Candidate tables at the county assembly

Finally getting my beige alternate credential, I passed corridors of candidate tables on the way to the auditorium. Besides campaign literature, the tables held bagels, tamales, donuts, candy, breakfast burritos and cardboard boxes of coffee. I sidled through packed aisles, peering around tall people (tall people should stand in the back) to eyeball treats, sorry I’d eaten.

The auditorium was stifling, half-filled, nothing happening. I stood near a door for a breath of cool air. The meeting was called to order. A guy near me looked at his phone, sighed, “we’re an hour behind schedule. What Will Rogers said.”

When they’d tallied missing delegates, alternates were summoned back to the gym. I watched four people in front of me get told, “sorry, thanks for your service.” I was thinking, it’s barely 11, I can look up bus schedules, say goodbye to my precinct captain (PCP) I carpooled with, join the March for our Lives. “Oh!” the woman punching my info into her computer exclaimed. A blue delegate credential was printing out.

Some HD8 deadbeat didn’t show up and I was (mysteriously) next in line. Back to the hotbox auditorium, now SRO, people lining walls, sitting on the floor. I’d missed organizational reports and sadly, speeches by students going to the march. I waved my blue tag at my PCP. “Lucky you,” she called.

SRO Democratic Assembly

Candidates for Governor and Representative to the First Congressional District spoke. Such remarks as gun control or fighting Trump were wildly applauded. Cary Kennedy supporters broke into “Cary, Cary, Cary” chants after her speech. Diana DeGette’s “Trump’s not getting a stinking wall,” earned a roaring reply.

Our preference poll was on the top two races only. It was nearly lunchtime. The food trucks were outside. It was announced that we’d vote and reconvene in 15 minutes. “That isn’t happening,” someone near me predicted. Someone else responded, “well, you know what Will Rogers said.”

Ballot boxes to be placed at the exits were held aloft, so we could see they were empty. Aww. Perforated ballot slips at the bottom of our delegate tags had candidate names and our own printed on them. Very official. When everyone has voted, come back to your seats.

I thought I’d do that, but my PCP said, “I’m hungry.” It’s her fault we joined the stream flowing into refreshing sunny air, cascading toward the food trucks. We were too late for Ethiopian: that truck had a long line already.

Eating on a sunny bench, we wondered: was it helpful that Polis brought his young son to the stage? At least one candidate mentioned “Hancock’s Folly,” the disastrous I-70 plan, but it was clearly not a big issue to most. Kennedy’s speech was strong. Why the cooling we could feel in the room toward Polis and DeGette? That they’ve been there so long is not enough reason to toss them.

After lunch, house district (HD) meetings. HD8 was in a small gym with lousy acoustics. District business happened, which I mostly couldn’t hear. We approved our state rep by acclamation: Leslie Herod is wonderful and running unopposed. The preference poll gave Cary Kennedy a big lead. In HD8 that meant 82 delegates for Kennedy and 28 for Polis. I joined the small Polis group, voted for him. We counted, had only 24 people. I had not planned to attend the state assembly, but oh, well. DeGette led the other poll, one of her challengers, Saira Rao, earning delegates as well.

Nothing’s definitive here. Delegates are not bound, can change their votes. Candidates also get on the ballot by petition and many, including Polis, have done that. Surely it helps to have your party’s backing going into a race, but once the vote is open to all in June’s primary, who knows. “What a curious system,” I exclaimed. “My dear,” said a woman, “you know what Will Rogers said, don’t you?”

I was warmed by the passion in the room; by articulate, informed candidates; the large number of young people; the dogged dedication of older people, shuffling in line on canes and walkers; by oft-repeated allegiance to health care, gun control, reproductive rights, environment, campaign finance reform, giving Dreamers a path to citizenship, renewable energy.

We have all the great issues: what in the world do Republicans talk about? Still, we might be a trifle too proud of what Will Rogers said about us:

I am not a member of any organized political party. I am a Democrat.