A Greatness Drive-By

Day 2 of vacation started with a trip to the Subaru place to get a little cosmetic surgery for podmobile2. As you know, he had something of a run-in with a raccoon about a month ago, and though the raccoon got the worst of it, podmobile2 didn't exactly come out unfazed.

The appointment was at 11:00. My original plan was to spend my waiting time (they said it would take less than an hour) test driving cars. Not because I think I can afford to buy one, but, oh, I don't know, just for giggles. However, it was raining hard this morning, and not even I'm silly enough to test drive cars, cars I have no intention of buying, in a pouring rain. I grabbed my brand new issue of Games magazine instead, and a pencil.

I got there, found the perfect chair for waiting, it was right beside a small file cabinet I could use as a desk for my magazine. I decided which checkbook would be taking care of this little foray (I chose the blue one, the barely used one, there for emergencies), then got out my pencil and opened my Games magazine.

I turned to the first crossword puzzle. I read the first clue, knew it immediately, and began to write it in the grid. My pencil had a broken lead. You know those sneaky kinds of leads that look like you have a sharp pencil till you go to write, then they're all wobbly? I had one of those. But I valiantly soldiered on, holding the pencil this way and that, still getting it to write letters, wobbly letters, but letters nonetheless.

I sat and tried not to pay attention while the lady in the body shop office was repeatedly abused over the phone by a customer, the same customer over and over, who she kept whispering to the body shop manager was drunk (remember, it was 11am). The manager whispered back, yes, he knew, the man generally was by this time in the day. I did feel quite sorry for the lady because I've taken abuse at my job and know it's no fun, especially when some stranger with a wobbly pencil lead is sitting in front of you taking it all in.

Somewhere around the bottom of my crossword my pencil lead finally gave up and said goodbye, and I was left with working crosswords with a felt pen that would bleed through my paper or talking to the office lady. I chose the latter, and she really was a very nice lady, and so the time passed quickly. It took an hour and ten minutes, but it was no big deal. Podmobile2 fixed. At least until the jinxed little bastard runs over something else.

So I headed back home knowing I had a decision to make. And here was the decision. It actually began Saturday, so let's go back a few days.

While I was working hard at getting the new computer all loaded in and comfy I decided to check my hotmail email account. I was scrolling down among the junk and saw a mail from the Obama campaign. The subject: Obama Appearing in Lebanon Tuesday.

Now, that's not Lebanon the country, that's Lebanon the little town in Virginia about an hour or so away from me. Needless to say, I started jumping up and down in my chair and making plans, and I opened the email and read that he was at their local high school, you had to have a ticket to enter, and that tickets were free. "Woo Hoo!" I said.

Then I kept reading and saw the list of places one could obtain a ticket. They were establishments in Lebanon and beyond. Beyond being farther away. Then I read that tickets were being made available for pick-up on Saturday till around 6pm. It was about 9pm when I read the email. And I stopped saying, "Woo Hoo!" and started saying, "Well, damn."

I kept thinking about it, though. Surely he's going to enter the building. Leave the building. Surely he's going to have a crowd greeting him. I began to think that since I didn't have anything else on tap I might head down that way.

Then today came, and it was raining and all, and I started hemming and hawing. Was this possible? Would I be turned away before I could even get out of my car? Would I go there and be able to see Barack? Who knew. I mentioned it in an email to Stennie, who said by all means go.

And I decided I'd go. As I answered in the Stennie-mail, "If you want to be near greatness, you have to go to where greatness is." I grabbed a camera, a green tea, and my iPod, and hit the road.

I made really good time, much better than I was expecting, and arrived in Leabanon about 20 minutes earlier than I'd planned. "Oh, this is great," I said. "If they won't let me in the parking lot with no ticket, I'll at least have time to ask someone what my options are."

I turned off on the road to the high school and in about a half-mile - came to a dead halt. I may have been early by my own standards, but not by those of the good people of Lebanon and beyond. The line of snail-like traffic wound around the road, up and down, hin and yon, leading to the school.

No one asked me for a ticket, so I just kept on driving, thinking, "Hey, I'll drive till they tell me to leave." I drove past the high school, where I saw more cars than I thought Lebanon could hold, huge television trucks, and people. A line of people snaking from the door of the rear of the school down the sidewalk, looping around the track, out past the football field, and, well, I know there had to be 8000 people in that line, and I didn't know how they were going to fit them in that high school.

I actually got to turn into a parking lot, past that line of people waiting to get in, it was very far away but I didn't mind (except that it was in mud). I crept along, being directed by high school kids, till we came to a stop and one of those kids came up to me and said, "There just isn't anymore parking here. You'll have to find somewhere else."

And so I followed the car in front of me out into the road, I headed back the other way, like I was going back home, then found a field where some other people were parked. I filed in and got out.

Everyone seemed to be happy and excited, and they all looked friendly, so I asked some questions, but I didn't get many answers. I got to look at a ticket, which was bright orange, and then I found out that I wasn't heading west on the Betty Bet Bet Inspirational Highway with all the facts. The email said 4:30. The meeting actually began at 5:30. The doors opened at 2:30. That pretty much boggled my mind. I was looking at 8000 people waiting to get in, with tickets, and the doors had already been open about an hour.

I was feeling pretty doomed.

But I kept walking, and finally girded my loins and did the one thing I was the most afraid to do. I found a policeman. As you might imagine, they were all over, but most were very harried trying to direct traffic. I told myself I'd only talk to one who looked like he might be on a break of some sort. I finally did.

I said hello and could I ask him a question. I told him I didn't have a ticket, and he immediately looked at me with a combination of "oh, you poor soul" and "I really don't want to deal with you." But I continued on that I knew I couldn't get in, had no intention of trying, but what were my chances of just hanging around hoping to see Barack.

Now....

I began to realize as I was saying it that it sounded creepy and no policeman was going to say, "Sure, you just go right ahead up this street we're not letting people pass, and you wait right there." But on the other hand, somewhere in my head I thought, "Maybe he will!"

He didn't. All he could tell me was that I had to follow the line like everyone else, and after standing in that line I'd reach the school and be asked for my ticket. And I wouldn't be let in without one.

As I saw it, I had two options. One was depressing, one was silly. Depressing, I could pack up and go home. Silly, I could walk along to that line and stand in it until I inched my way to one of those TV trucks. I figured, hey the press might be able to tell me if he was in the building and when he'd be leaving it, and again I felt very creepy about even thinking such a thing. I packed up and went home.

And so this is how close I got to Barack Obama today.



(If you'll click on that, you'll get a better view.)

Back in the 70s I bought a Monty Python album called "Monty Python's Insant Record Collection." The cover was amazingly cool. It folded out into a cube that, when sat on a shelf, looked like a, well, a record collection. Only the spines of the records all had extremely silly titles. The one that always made me giggle the most was "A Man Who Once Sold Paul McCartney A Newspaper- Live!" That's kind of how I felt today. "A Woman Who Was In The Same Town As Barack Obama!"

But you know, I'm glad I went. I'm glad I tried, even though I could have probably tried harder or come up with a more cunning plan. It was actually a sight to see. All those people in that little town. Of all kinds, colors, ages, classes, all there to see Barack. I talked to some nice people, even the policeman who gave me a bleak prospect.

And I got out of the house, got to listen to music in the car for a couple of hours.

However, when I was about 15 minutes from home, it hit me. I went too early! I should have gone to be there as it was ending. I'd have had a much better chance of seeing Barack on the way out. If the thing ended at 6:30, I should have planned to get there about 5:45. And you know, I came an ace of turning the car around.

But I didn't. That probably would have been the way to go, though.

Except for the exiting. If there were that many people standing in line to get in, could you imagine the traffic line when they all exited at the same time?

I tried, though. I failed, but I tried. I'm glad I did. Disappointment's better than regret.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners! So, give me your thoughts on laundry.
- Runner-Up goes to LilyG, with her "Cheer, All? Instead Tide, OxiClean." (Oh, Lily - Billy Mays?)
- And this week's winner goes to DeepFatFriar, with his "Carrying armloads, I trip. OUCH!!!!"
- Thanks to all who played, youv'e all done very well!