Political Event

For a mere $100 a ticket, a Benjamin by electronic transfer, I could meet the candidate while he could amass the money he needs to purchase media time.  My wife and I each bought a ticket.  His campaign selected a Mexican restaurant with a patio, a time in proximity to Cinco de Mayo, the celebratory day of Mexico and a partying day of people of Americans with Mexican heritage.  This is apparently a small local chain, this branch a newly opened one in a recently developed shopping center that aspires to become upscale. 

For the most part, I am among the diminishing fraction of Americans who live in a place that elects mostly honorable people, at least for statewide office.  I've met every governor except one, every Senator, every congressman except the incumbent who had been swept out within a short time of our relocating to where we have lived the past 44 years.  Not a single slimy individual.  Talents and views vary.  Scandals have been rare.  Leveraging power in a seriously objectional way only occurred one time, by the man who the candidate we just spent money to support ousted from office in a primary eight years earlier.

While the people who hold upper-tier offices seem worthy, the mechanism by which they organize people politically does not always attract my kind of people.  I had served on my Representative District's Democratic Committee, resigning not long ago as I found myself at odds with the platforms of the Democratic Progressives at my meetings.  Like many other Jewish voters, multigenerational Democrats who achieved considerable prosperity through initiatives that rescued my grandparents from an economic abyss and enabled a once unlikely college degree for my father, and access to elite universities for myself and my children, the October 7 massacre of Israeli's offered a political inflection point.  The President made his position unambiguous, virtually identical to mine.  The pushback offended me.  A new committeeman of my district introduced a proposal to support an initiative of a known congressional anti-Semite who herself represents a district adjacent to one in which my son and I each lived thirty years apart, a district where intimidation by punks is the coin of the realm.  My neighborhood and Tel Aviv are each pretty nice places to live.  So was the town where my parents opted to purchase the family home.  North St. Louis and Gaza are places that are left to people who are not the builders but the destroyers.  People who have little.  Takers.  The Democratic Party is about Builders, as is some of my Shabbos morning liturgy.  If not Reagan's City on a Hill, at least seek to create aspirations more noble than getting even with people who have attained economic success.  Equality of opportunity.  Rather than suffer through that, I realized that over my time on the district committees, I got to meet and admire some of the very honorable men and women that we elect.  I opted to divest myself of the monthly committee meetings in favor of picking one or two individual officials who had impressed me, then supporting their campaigns for re-election or higher office.  And so I support the County Executive who seeks to become the successor to the incumbent term-limited Governor, who I have also met and admired.  I know he is worthy.  A contribution of $200 may help get the word out to other people who don't know him.

We arrived at the Mexican restaurant as people were assembling.  As a Kosher consumer, Mexican cuisine seems dominated by ground beef and cheese combos, a Kosher taboo.  As a result, I never go to a Mexican restaurant unless physically in Mexico.  I did not know where this site was, but capably directed by my Israeli Waze app to a shopping center anchored by a Wegman's supermarket.  I found a place to park not far from the entrance, then passed the glass doors.  A hostess pointed me to their patio where the first person I encountered was another retired physician who I had not seen in a few years.  In the middle of the patio sat two young people, one of each gender, sporting cornflower blue t-shirts with the candidate's name in white block letters.  Since attendance required a campaign donation, the two aides confirmed payment.  They also confirmed contact information, suggesting that new solicitations would be forthcoming.

We first greeted the candidate's parents, longstanding friends from the synagogue we eventually defected from.  His mother remains a Facebook friend, a delightful lady in her mid-80s, while his father seemed less animated than in his prime.  As we mingled, nearly everyone we met and recognized belonged to their synagogue, with a few outliers, also Jewish, who belonged to different synagogues.  Even most of the doctors were Jewish.  They did not provide us name tags, something I usually expect at events where most people do not know each other.  In the absence of this type of passive introduction, I greeted essentially only people I knew, either from the Jewish or medical communities.

A Mariachi Band attired in neon green with glittering gold braid and ornate silk ties, all making these burly Mexicans register in my mind as effeminate, serenaded us.  A trumpet, two violins, a huge guitar larger than any I had seen before, and two more standard appearing guitars played the kind of music that I would expect at a place that serves tacos. Off in a corner sat food, a large bowl of tortilla chips and smaller bowls of guacamole and salsa.  A few people helped themselves to small servings on white porcelain bread and butter plates.  A pitcher of ice water and restaurant-style beer glasses to pour it in sat next to the tortilla chips.  No Dos Equis XX, Corona, or Modelo, which I might have expected at a political rally of high-priced admission held at a Mexican-themed location.  A few people went into the restaurant, emerging back onto the patio with their Margaritas, presumably purchased at the restaurant's bar.

As the band's music dominated the ambient sound, though not so loud as to snuff out conversations, the candidate appeared, holding his two month old son.  His wife, a physician, had entered separately, eventually taking turns holding the baby.  He made rounds, shaking hands, accepting congratulations on his newborn, but not disclosing how our lives might find an upgrade when he becomes our state's next Governor.

While the attendance seemed dominated by members of the Jewish community, and we are likely to vote overwhelmingly for him, our influence on electoral outcomes is rather small, even for a Democratic primary.  The party has the same two factions locally that it has nationally.  George Packer, in his masterpiece in The Atlantic not long ago termed them Smart America and Just America. https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2021/07/george-packer-four-americas/619012/  Smart America supports this candidate.  We are college educated professionals, highly sought after by mainstream employers who need our skills and energies.  Only one person of color appeared on the patio, not counting the Mariachi musicians.  There did not seem to be any elected officials, many of whom are also people of talent seeking political advancement.  I would probably recognize any statewide official, and the woman of color may have been a statewide elected official.  But without name tags, I could not reference city, county, and state legislators or Cabinet officials who also think my preferred candidate should become Governor.  They may agree but would be at a disadvantage if the primary voters selected a different candidate.  I would have expected to see more of them than I did.

This election cycle, we have a musical chairs of high office.  Governor and County Executive stepping aside by term limits.  Senator retiring.  Congresswoman wants to be Senator, creating a vacancy there.  Lt Governor wants to be Governor, so another vacancy.  Did my candidate, the person I deem most capable, might have done better aiming for Washington?  There are candidates for those primaries, one perhaps part of Just America, the other a delightful person who displays photos of herself with Seniors and Kids but sidesteps anything that divides the professional class Democrats from the Progressives.  I much would have rather my fellow become a legislator, though there are satisfactions from being a CEO that individuals functioning in a legislative body do not enjoy.  So I understand why he sought the position that he did.  

I also did not detect enthusiasm.  What I saw was not the expansion of a community of common interest but its affirmation among people who already know each other.  We know his capability and trust him to function like our state's CEO.  Enthusiasm comes from imagining what might be possible that does not currently exist.  I saw none of that.  More importantly, in this day of Progressive and Identity ideology with a certain amount of public harm and political risk, I did not see any inclination to state that he as a candidate would resist the lures of easy votes if it jeopardized taking the best path ahead.

Might he not prevail in our primary?  Before the event, I would expect his talent to emerge.  After the event, I did not experience that talent, only a personable presence, nor did I encounter any breadth of support beyond what prosperous, highly educated, Jewish professionals would seek out.  The electorate is much wider than what I encountered for my $200.