Clinton campaign disenfranchises black voters in Texas.

Yes, I know I owe you all the final installment of my "election night" report. But I'm in Tucson and trying to pack and get to the airport without further burning my skin to a crisp.

In the meantime, though, I cannot help but bring to your attention this disgusting behavior by the Clinton campaign in Texas. First, they said they wouldn't make mass challenges to Obama delegates who would be attending the district convention this Saturday. Twenty-four hours later, Clinton campaign workers delivered a truckload of challenges to the offices of the Dallas Democratic Party.

The result? Clinton made more than 70 challenges in my Senate District and gained 22 delegates. My Senate District is made up predominantly of African-American voters. I find it hard to believe that even 22 of Obama's delegates were seated improperly. Obviously, the Credentials Committee found that 48 of the Clinton campaign's 70 challenges were without merit.

Why would anyone support a Democratic candidate who is determined to disenfranchise voters, including African-American voters? (Not to mention one who lies about being subjected to sniper fire in Bosnia?)

One of life's mysteries . . .

I am humbled

by the many kindnesses I have received from you internet friends since making that other post. I have now removed the post, because I feel safer that way, but wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you.

You know

where my head has been lately. So the fact that this little video made me laugh out loud should say something:



Via Althouse.

Taking deep breaths . . .

I had a productive session this morning and am feeling more in control now. Still lots to think about, so it's good that I will be out of town most of this week, with plenty of time to ponder and lick my wounds and construct a way forward. Thank you so much for the kind thoughts and offers of support . . . it means more than I could possibly express.

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On a significantly less dark note, I thought you might enjoy this snap of my office, with decor and art (a photo canvas) by me:

I loved thinking of those 25 things.

And I may do a "next 25" list. I find myself in need of good thoughts, things that remind me that there are good things to look forward to and good parts of me I so easily forget.

Every night this week, I haven't been able to get to sleep until really late--2 or 3 am. I'm in a state of anxiety and I don't know why. I feel out of control.

What is happening?

Top 25 Things I Want To Think Of When My Life Flashes Before My Eyes

Maggie at Mighty Girl deserves all credit for this brilliant idea for a post. Here are the things she wants to remember as life flashes before her eyes.

These are the first 25 I thought of (I know there are more), in no particular order--what about yours?

1. splashing in a fountain in Switzerland with a friend from home, friends from the road and several American GIs on my 25th birthday
2. realizing my law school love was in love with me, too
3. seeing the zoo kids' faces as the tiny South American armadillo skitted around the circle formed by their knees
4. finding out I made a near-perfect score on the LSAT
5. the precious, silent moments when my grandmother who was suffering from Alzheimer's and I said goodbye to each other
6. laughing with friends until I cried and my stomach muscles were sore (many potential examples of this)
7. my friend's daughter May engaging in her ritual of hiding and making me find her when I visit their house
8. the first time I saw each of my dogs, at their respective SPCAs
9. sitting on the tiny picnic table on the back porch of my childhood home, eating hot dogs with my friend Brian after morning kindergarten
10. sliding down a mossy dam in a rippling creek with my friend Amy
11. visiting New Mexico with my Mom and Aunt, who had never seen that beautiful state before
12. hanging out reading, talking and drinking with my dear guy buddies at our friends' house in Crested Butte
13. any number of wonderful Cubs moments, including seeing the Cubs sweep the Cardinals, the joy of a game won with a walk-off home run on my birthday, being there for a retiring Cub's last game, the great home run race of 1998 between Sosa and McGuire, Cubs spring training (every aspect of it!), Wayne Messmer singing the national anthem, Ryne Sandberg's Hall of Fame induction speech, the kindness of an elderly Wrigley Field usher, witnessing history in Sammy Sosa's 600th home run, the time when I impulsively decided to catch an extra afternoon game at Wrigley after my flight home was delayed, attending my first-ever playoff game at Wrigley Field and on and on and on
    
14. my first glimpse of Shelburne Farms in Vermont
15. writing and delivering the eulogies for my father and grandmother
16. leaping off a train in France's Loire Valley just as I was about to miss my stop
17. hiking to the top of Camelback Mountain with friends to distract us from worrying about our friend who was in the hospital in Phoenix
18. meeting my friends J and M for the first time in a hotel lobby in Redondo Beach, California
19. the times when my law school roommate's tiny red poodles hid cookies and cigarettes all over the house
20. the 10-hour "roll" with college friends in the Central Texas countryside, during my first year of law school
    
21. driving down the Pacific Coast Highway with the top down, listening to the live cut of John Mayer's "Your Body Is A Wonderland"
22. looking down at my watch and realizing it was 5:00 a.m. on a weekday and I was still in a bar called "The Dungeon" in New Orleans during Mardi Gras with my friends K and D . . . and feeling like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's as we emerged, blinking, into the sunlight and stepped our way around the detrius in the street
23. confiding in my Dad that my heart was broken after ending the relationship with my law school love, and finding then and on many other occasions that he was all a girl could ever want in a father
24. that crazy and impulsive road trip with friends R and M, from Dallas to Chicago in R's Monte Carlo, with all three of us jammed in the front seat singing fraternity songs, experiencing 5:00 a.m. headlight failure and documenting the best lines of the trip
    
25. the dear friends I know virtually, only because I write on this blog.
    

Plan for The Week

Three simple things:

(1) tackle the most distasteful tasks first--just get them over with
(2) no staying up until 3:30 am (crazy!)
(3) drink lots of juice

Days of Thinking

One night this week, I heard the author Anne Lamott read and talk. My friend C was nice enough to invite me and I was really looking forward to hearing what Ms. Lamott would have to say, as I hold her writing abilities in serious awe. Her sense of humor was all I had hoped and expected, though I realized later that her delivery deserved more credit than the jokes themselves for the laughter she won--at least, my laughter.

Here are a few of the things I jotted down:

• "My friend once told me this [a "loved and chosen" exercise she did while teaching a Sunday School class] is a good exercise because everyone is loved and chosen . . . even Dick Cheney." The sanctuary was silent for a moment as the Dallas crowd furtively wondered if it was okay to laugh. And then, they did.
• "On the stem [of a rose tattoo she recently got] I put scripture from the third season of West Wing . . . 'Trust the captain, trust the crew.'"
• Taking ballroom dancing classes with her boyfriend "was like putting Miracle Grow on our character flaws."

Afterward, standing in line so she could sign my copy of "Bird by Bird" (my favorite of her many books that I own), I tried in vain to think of something memorable to say, like my taunting of Salman Rushdie about how Yankee fans (like him) do not know true suffering. I wanted to say something that would make her see more in me than a fat woman who goes to hear other people read from books they have written. But I did not succeed, and instead just told her I enjoyed her talk.

Then, on Saturday afternoon, I finally saw the movie Juno. I had heard it was really funny, but it was so bittersweet, too, and afterward, I could not stop crying.

After this, I needed to think of escape. I bought Rick Steves' latest books about London and Ireland, as well as "Honeymoon with My Brother" by Franz Wisner, as well as some beautiful opera and classical music.

Also, there are travel plans to look forward to in 2008:

• March: two Cubs spring training games
• April: attend three of the Cubs' games on the first weekend of the season, with my Mom and then with my friend G (which I believe will be the first time at Wrigley for each of them)
  
• April: attend Bruce Springsteen concerts in Dallas and Houston with my friends J and B
• June: potentially attend the ACLU membership conference and an American Constitution Society conference in D.C., and visit friends in VA
• August: take my friend T to Chicago for her first Wrigley Field visit
• September: something for my birthday, to be determined
  
• December: something for Christmas, to be determined.
  

Texas Democratic Primary Part II: Just Before The Precinct Convention

I have lived in Texas for 20 years now and have never participated in a caucus before. I have to confess: before this election, I never even knew about the caucuses, despite having voted in every Democratic Party primary. That tells you a lot about the pulse of the Democratic Party in Texas (or lack thereof) prior to this election cycle. The fact that a longtime Democratic voter like me was never informed of or invited to participate in this process by which 1/3 of the delegates are awarded to a Democratic Party is somewhat stunning, I think.

The Obama campaign did a great job of training its Precinct Captains about how the precinct convention process works. Essentially, polls close at 7:00 pm or whenever the people in line at that time finish voting. At the later of 7:15 pm or whenever people finish voting, the precinct convention begins. People gather in a room at the polling place marked with the number of their precinct. Everyone who voted in the Democratic primary and is present can sign in, indicating their candidate preference. The number of people who signed in are counted, that number is divided by the total number of delegates allocated to the precinct (18 in this precinct), and the resulting number is the minimum a candidate must have to form a caucus and be assigned a delegate.

At first, a "temporary convention chair" who picks up the Party's packet runs this meeting, but the attendees then elect a "permanent convention chair" to oversee things. (The term "permanent" is somewhat misleading, as you are the chair just for that night). I asked about picking up the packet when I arrived, but ran smack into the formidable wall of the Permanent Precinct Chair (a party operative, not to be confused with the convention chair). She happens to be the sister of a former Texas Attorney General whose negative and defamatory whose negative and defamatory campaign against former Governor Ann Richards bore striking parallels to that of the Hillary Clinton campaign. She also happens to be a vociferous Hillary Clinton supporter and served as that campaign's Captain for our precinct.

A brief digression: I was stunned to learn while calling voters that when this Captain or one of her cohorts reached an Obama supporters in our precinct, the Clinton volunteer would treat them rudely, ask questions like, "Do you have ANY good reason for voting for him?" and oftentimes slam down the phone at the end of the call. Great way to win friends and influence people!

Anyhoo, back to the polling place: The Precinct Chair snottily informed me that I had no right to pick up the convention packet (which is not true) and said it was being held for her so she could run the meeting. Then, in the fine tradition of psychological projection, she told me there was no need to be hostile about this. We also discussed the matter of the missing Obama signs, and she suggested that the City of Dallas was known for removing candidates' signs from polling places, apparently thinking I just arrived in Dallas by way of a turnip truck. She then tried to bully me away from the polling place, despite the fact that anyone is allowed to observe the voting process. I soon realized why.

In the short time in which I was present at the polling place while the polls remained open, I learned of Ms. Precinct Chair and/or her fellow poll workers engaging in certain practices that were obviously designed to turn away people who wanted to vote and caucus for Barack Obama. Some African-American voters were told this wasn't their precinct and/or that they were not eligible to vote, but were not given the chance to cast a provisional vote, which they should have been allowed to do. Others, asking about the caucus, were told by those inside the voting room: "Gee, we have no idea what time the caucus will start," even though the time and location for the caucus should have been publicly posted at the polling place. I tried calling the Democratic Party and Obama campaign hotlines, but they were constantly busy. So, each time I learned of these things happened, I stepped inside and asked about it. I don't know if this had any influence whatsoever, but I'm hoping this deterred similar conduct by letting them know that the word was getting about and that we were not going to stand for it.

Next: the polls close, and inside the caucus.

I love Larry David.

As if Curb Your Enthusiasm wasn't enough, he offers this very savvy observation.

Texas Democratic Primary Part I: Leadup to Election Day

You may have heard that in Texas, we have this odd two-part way of choosing a Presidential nominee: first you vote, then you caucus. The Obama campaign refers to this as the "Texas two-step," a catch-phrase Hillary Clinton immediately began using without attribution, despite her abhorrence of plagiarism. But I digress . . .

Not content to merely serve my candidate as a volunteer in New Hampshire, I signed up to be a Precinct Captain in Texas. This meant I was assigned approximately 900 or so people in my precinct who were eligible to vote and seen as possible Obama supporters (there are just over 1000 eligible voters in the precinct, so we apparently cut a broad swathe). I was to call and/or visit these people to see who they support, talk about why they should vote for Obama and get them to vote for him in the primary and caucus for him on the night of the primary. If you have ever read this blog, you know I am a full-time practicing attorney and a very busy one, at that. So it was no small feat to make the 820 calls I made to my people over the course of just a few weeks, and I was proud to have accomplished that. In making those calls, I reached about 36 confirmed Obama supporters, but I had no guarantee how many would actually show up for the precinct convention.

On election day, I was at my polling place before 7 am. There I saw that someone had removed all of the Obama signs, plucking them from among all of the candidates' signs, though the Clinton signs still stood in full force. Strangely, this same thing happened in New Hampshire. I had no signs left and neither did the campaign. Utilizing the resourcefulness for which we Midwesterners are known, I left the polling place and marched up to the front door of a house that was displaying an Obama sign, in order to, well, beg for their sign. Turns out, I didn't have to do that, because they had three extras they graciously offered for the cause of ensuring a nice display at the polling place.

Back at the polling place, I watched to see if voting began on time. The election judge was huffing and puffing, apparently having allowed himself all of about 10 minutes to set up, but the polls opened just a minute or two late, with approximately 30 people already in line to vote. I asked if he would have a list of early voters available for our use in the caucus that night, and he said he would. Satisfied that I had done all I could for the morning, I headed in to work.

Next up: shenanigans before the precinct convention begins.

Naming rights.

I don't know if it is unique to my neighborhood, or to Texans in general, but I have noticed a trend while making my calls for my candidate: people with large families who name every kid with a name beginning with the father's initial. For instance, John has kids named John, Jim, Jesse, Joshua and Julie.

What's up with that?

Hillary supporters are the meanest . . .

this is one of the things I have learned as a volunteer for my favorite candidate.

A John Edwards supporter would engage with you on the issues. Bill Richardson supporters were also quite nice, certainly full of respect for their candidate. Of course, my candidate's supporters are thrilled to hear from a fellow supporter and are happy, excited and full of hope, but also able to speak intelligently on the issues. But those who plan to vote for Hillary Clinton and receive a call from a volunteer for another candidate are, in my experience, the quickest to be sarcastic, caustic and/or yell "I'm voting for Hillary" into the phone and hang up on the volunteer. A suspicion or mistrust hangs heavily in their voice.

And now, the Clinton campaign has purported to say who Ann Richards would have supported in this race, even over the objection of Ann Richards' sons. This disgusts me.

I can't wait for next Tuesday. But before then, I have a million precinct captain calls to make.

P.S. I should add: this analysis of meanness does not apply to my dear friends who like Hillary Clinton. They would never be mean, to me or anyone, and are nice to me despite the fact that I keep putting my foot in my mouth about their fondness for their candidate.

Now you will understand.

When I read this interview of Texas Governor Rick "Good Hair" Perry by NY Times writer Deborah Solomon, I literally choked with laughter. Governor Perry, you see, just wrote a book about how much he loves the Boy Scouts and how much he hates my favorite civil rights organization. While there are many wonderful quotes in the interview, this is, in my opinion, the money quote:

Solomon: I know they have a dog-care merit badge, but why not a child-care badge?

Perry: Why not teach scouts how to change a baby’s diaper and help out moms? I don’t have a problem with that.

I love that while the writer is pointing out the Boy Scouts' sexism in not having a child-care badge, Perry responds with uber-sexism, assuming the Scouts can help moms, not dads, with child care. Perfect!

A Perry anecdote: my friend's ex is an official with a powerful firemen's union and he had a photo-op a few years ago with the Governor. While they waited for the photographer to get ready, Governor Perry looked down at Brian's boots and said something like, "Those are nice. Where do you have them made?" Our Governor is so out of touch that he assumed a fireman has the money to have his boots specially made, which is a very expensive proposition.

Sometimes I wonder how in the world I've managed to live here for 20 years.

The best $90 I have ever spent.

In the last several years, I have worked hard to be smarter with my money. So I was surprised that an impulse buy I made yesterday turned out to be such an unregrettable decision.

Staring at the American Airlines quick check-in kiosk at the Jacksonville Airport, I had to make a choice. I could simply check in and take my very respectable window seat near the front of the coach section. Or, I could accept the airline's offer of a first class seat for only an additional $90. My memory veered back to the flight to Jacksonville, where I had found myself hungry at lunchtime, smelling the aroma of the first class lunch offering, but with only trail mix available to me. Not only that--I was feeling sleepy, as if a cold was coming on, and was laboring under the grief brought on by the fact that my laptop's hard drive had just been diagnosed with a serious, possibly terminal, illness. I desperately craved a comfortable flight experience.

It will not surprise you that I chose the first class upgrade. I don't think I have ever paid for a first class seat before, having only enjoyed that experience once when the airline offered it gratuitously for reasons I no longer remember. But there is something truly decadent and wonderful about being served with a drink of water even before takeoff, nibbling on warmed nuts, receiving your choice of wine for free and then enjoying a well-rounded dinner of pasta, salad and . . . mmm . . . very good cheesecake (not to mention the hot towel), just before taking a nap. (Note: first class isn't perfect: that section also has a jerk who hacks and coughs the whole way home without ever covering his mouth).

I doubt I will have the chance to fly first class again anytime soon--at least not in a price range I am willing to endure. But every now and then, it's nice to luxuriate in being pampered.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Valentine courtesy of right wing news, via althouse.

Where did my mojo go?

I'm perplexed by where my blogging gumption has gone in recent months. Maybe it's that I have been too busy with work and other stuff to take time to think the introspective thoughts I like to write about here. Maybe it's that much of what I would like to write about I cannot . . . like the lawsuit I am pursuing against the lying jerks who sold me my house, a lawsuit made more difficult by the fact that I am a nice person who didn't want to sue them unless I absolutely could not solve the problem they caused on my own. Maybe it's that I have become so shallow I don't have anything meaningful to write about anymore.

Despite my best resolve for 2008, I haven't been keeping up with family or friends in the way I would like, nor have I been working on my physical health as I would like. I am, however, a billing machine at work. And I have listed some of my photographs for sale. Soon I'll have a piece of my own art to hang on my wall at work . . . I'll photograph it for you after it arrives. And I do have a cute new haircut that makes me want to live up to the stylishness of my hair.

I miss my camera, which has been tucked away in the closet with no place to go. But next week, we're going to Florida on a business trip, and at the end of March, we're going to Arizona for another business trip, this one with baseball, too. And I'm going to work to help Barack Obama win the Texas Democratic Party primary on March 4th.

In more important new, Phil has lost a friend. He is far from home . . . please drop by and give him a virtual hug.




P.S. I should add this: even though I will be angry if I lose this case because I was nice, I will never, ever regret being the nice person who lost, as opposed to the jerk who lied. Never.

Video Sunday, and Other Tidbits

Who would have ever thought I would find myself saying, "Way to go, Montel! Tell it like it is."



Via Susan at "Kiss My Big Blue Butt."

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This video made by supporters of Barack Obama is really wonderful:



Who would have ever thought that I would be so thoughtless and conclusory in my support of Barack Obama as to spend a chunk of my nice walk with a friend this morning bashing Hilary Clinton, only to realize, not nearly quickly enough, that my friend is a Clinton supporter? I feel like a jerk. I need to think more before speaking.

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This is totally awesome:



Via Kottke.

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And finally, I cannot get this Sarah Silverman song out of my head (BUT FIRST--The video is even funnier if you FIRST check out the links in this story about the background behind it):



Via People.

Befriending Saddam

This is a really interesting article about the FBI agent assigned to draw information from Saddam Hussein. He had only been in the FBI for five years when he was assigned to him. The agent was made to seem more important than he really was by, among other things, guards scurrying around to please him whenever he was on the scene. The agent believes Saddam saw him as having a direct line of communication to the President of the United States.

Here's my question: the Administration has used the "state secrets" excuse a billion times to avoid producing information in connection with lawsuits against it, on the grounds that disclosing the information would impair our ability to obtain information from terrorists and others. If that is the case, why is this FBI agent free to talk to 60 Minutes about how he engaged Saddam Hussein?

I wish he would tell us what he really thinks.

Who? "Roosh." The scary thing is: I think he is right.

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From the "How stupid does the Harris County DA think we are?" category: this story.

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Off to pack bag, work a few hours, then off to Atlanta for a meeting. Back tomorrow night!