Knock knock

Better, much better, than the sheaves of papers I used to juggle, the smartphone app showed me which houses to call at, names, sex, ages, political affiliation (usually only Ds). If I climb the steps and ring the bell and nobody answers and I leave literature, it gives me menu to fill out; if on the other hand, there's a rustle behind the door and it swings open, there's a menu for me to use to record what I think is the likelihood of candidate support. Then, mirabile dictu, after I've visited all the designated houses in the 'turf', I just press a button and all the data is uploaded to headquarters, to the data base, where it can be used to formulate end of campaign and election day strategy.

The afternoon wind was fresh, the sun was in and out of the clouds but brilliant when unblocked. As the evening advanced, the sun lower and lower in the sky, illuminated the roofs of the big Jamaica Plain houses. I walked up one road, back on a parallel one, and so forth, zig-zagging through the neighborhood. 'Absolutely,' and 'She's got our support,' and 'You know why? Because I'm a died-in-the-wool D,' or else tight-lipped: 'We've already decided,' and 'You can keep that,' and 'I'll certainly keep that in mind.'

The nicest parts were people saying, 'Thank you for doing this,' and the worst parts were when the people who said this were way off in a some little cul-de-sac (and the Pond section of JP has lots of them) that I had walked past an hour before.

Mostly I got the sense that people are just waking up to the election coming a week from Tuesday. It's been something in the deep background which has finally come far enough forward to be worthy of remark or concern. There was no talk of policy, just a recognition of an impending moment of decision. Professionals devote hours of thought, study, discussion to figuring out just how to rouse the public to passion over politics. This cycle the task has been particularly difficult.

This is your state, our state, people. Who is elected and what is approved can have tremendous impact, obvious perhaps now, or at some unexpected time in the future. I'm listening to an audiobook on the topic of surveying and boundary marking in the early days of the Republic. History can hinge on where a line is drawn, establishing this jurisdiction here, that law there, creating the landscape of rules we all have to navigate. It's those who moves quickest, the sharpies, who see the opportunities to strategically to control the field.

Can we, the public, be as on the ball about the common good as some are about what's good for themselves and their friends? Probably not. How could we? We're too busy trying to find our way around the hills and highways already there to spend time thinking about shaping the landscape itself.

I've run farther and walked longer, but out of the wind, back in my car, I am surprisingly exhausted and my head ringing. I felt as if I'd been pushing a big stone along a road. It was not as bad as selling encyclopedias door to door which I  did when a college student (a low, dishonest enterprise) but, truth be told, I don't much like canvassing now, even with these brilliant apps. Still, my fellow citizens, if it's not we who pay attention to our common concerns, it will be those who never sleep for thinking of their private ones.

See you next weekend.