Knock, knock knocking on Democrats' doors

“To be honest, I want to find a way to help that a) doesn't need me calling middle America (with a Brit accent - not so good) or b) talking to people about Props (not a fan of "following the ticket" or propositions period for that matter, plus I think everyone will do the right thing on them in general).”


My friend Mike’s attitude reflects that of most normal human beings when it comes down to canvassing on behalf of … well, anyone!
It is a very ungrateful way to spend a Sunday afternoon; even when it’s 70 degrees, sunny and you are being fed the most delicious quiche in the world.

Now, until then, I had thought of canvassing as what Jehovah’s Witnesses spent their time doing, where one knocks on the opposition’s door and hustle to try to change their mind and get them to see the light. So I was surprised when I realized it was the exact opposite: we would be spending three hours trying to convince Democrats to still vote for Obama and the whole ticket.
Although it would be nice to bond with my neighbors over our shared ideals and hope and show the world the new face of America, both my husband and I were convinced this would be a waste of our time. I mean, what’s the point in preaching to the choir? I was ready to walk back into the DNC’s offices and explain to them that there had to be a better, more productive way to use volunteers. So there we were, my husband and I, walking the streets of West Hollywood in Los Angeles, not very enthusiastically I might add, to knock, knock, knock on people’s doors, a stash of flyers in hand, a volunteer sign-up sheet, a cheat-sheet with all the various propositions on the ticket and how to vote on them, a map of the area and a the addresses of all the registered Democrats on Genesee street.

Well, imagine my dismay- I was after all strolling through a pro-gay, pro Obama neighborhood- when instead of hearing one “Hell yeah!” after the other, my afternoon went more like this:

“ Knock, knock
Who’s there?
Hi, may I speak to Joe?
Who are you?
I am a volunteer with the Democratic Party and I …”

Door slams in my face.

Take two:

“ Knock, knock…
blah blah blah
Door slams in my face.

When doors did not slam, or someone chose not to sic their Chihuahua on me, the answers were disappointing, and once translated, not very hopeful:

“I do not need to tell you. It is my right to not tell you.” The means: I have changed my mind because I either don’t want to vote for a black man, don’t want to vote on gay rights or a teenager’s right to choose, but I would never admit it since you know where I live.

Or:
“Don’t you guys have anything else to do on a Sunday afternoon?” Which really means: “I’m a closeted Republican. Don’t make me say it. My neighbors might hear you.”

How about: “I haven’t made up my mind” (More like “Sarah Palin made me switch on you guys cause she’s a maverick”)

My favorite? “I don’t speak English” (Well, not if I have to admit I am under 40, not from Texas, and voting Republican)


All of a sudden, canvassing did not seem like such a waste of time: No Democrat is for sure. Unless it has been cast, no vote is guarantied! So it may be ungrateful, it may be the least satisfying hours of my life, but until Tuesday, 8pm, I will knock on everyone’s door, and remind you, the Democrats of America, that every one of you count. You need to vote for Obama, you need to respect the party’s complete ticket and you need to help change the country.

Because a lot of others won’t.