Having lived here for 25years, am I a true Wisconsinite?

I heard from one of my Polish readers today. He sent me a clipping of a newspaper article depicting a photograph that is identical to one I had purchased from an artist-photographer when I was last in Poland (December). It is actually quite nice in a muted and dreamy style of fuzzy contours and soft and faded blacks. I bought it by happenstance, following the most improbable set of circumstances, on the eve of my departure. And, to make things even more tricky, I could not fit it into my suitcase, so that I was forced to take kitchen sheers to it and chop the matting down to a size that could be accommodated in my bag.

Konrad Pustola, the 27 year old photographer, speaks of a Warsaw that follows him in his dreams (he lives there still). He digs into childhood memories for inspirations, taking photos on days when the pace slows down (Sundays) and the city becomes lazy, immobile, still. I wish I could link to the story, but I appear to be incapable of creating the connection.

After the flurry of political drama here in Wisconsin, this article, the photo, the recollection of scenes immortalized by Konrad – all are a perfect antidote. Sure, it may be important to cross oceans and set up homesteads in unfamiliar places, but it is also helpful in a soothing kind of way to return and take another look at the images (as depicted by a new generation of talented artists) that are left behind.

Avoiding the phone

The ringing phone makes my heart sink. Inevitably it is going to be one of the following: a taped message from a democratic candidates, or, worse, a live voice asking if I needed a ride to my polling place (what demographic list are we on anyway?? I am NOT a member of AARP!), or, inevitably, my mother asking if I voted for Dean. Only the first on this list of possibilities is not a strain. I feel terribly guilty when Kerry’s or Dean’s loyal campaign staffer offers me a ride because I have to say that I have already voted and then there is this dead silence as s/he comes to understand that I did not vote for their guy. I wish someone from Edwards’ office would call (they have not today, which is wise on their part – they read my blog yesterday, waited til midnight, and knew that they had my vote), so that I could be jubilant and say YES! I was with you all the way (or at least all the way this week)!

I would let the machine pick up the phone, but that just leads to confusion, because if it is a recorded message, then it is mangled by my prerecorded announcement and it is hard to understand who is calling or what they want. For instance, when I got back from work, I listened to something like this:

“... (beep) Bush. We need your support. Our country needs to move ahead with the economic plan that will give every American a chance at a good education, a decent job, and a safe world to live in.. blah blah.”

I really do not think I got a call from Bush. I am not on any mailing list that could have generated a Republican message, and anyway, to the best of my knowledge, GWB isn’t campaigning through grass roots phone calls at the moment. Too plebeian. But whoever left the recording did not anticipate that the first words would be cut. In denouncing Bush, they became Bush. What a warped twist of fate.

Neighbors

I met a neighbor at the polling place and naturally asked him how he was voting. People will lie rather than say “none of your business.” But he seemed honest in telling me he was voting for Edwards. He said he really liked Kucinich, but since he saw himself as a strategic voter, he’d go with Edwards. I reminded him that in the last presidential elections he had a Nader lawn sign, which was about as un-strategic as you can get. He explained that actually, in the end, he changed his mind and voted for Gore. He also admitted that while he was supporting Nader, he hadn’t realized how bad GWB would be.

Two interesting points to consider from that:

1. people’s lawn signs aren’t indicative of much. Of course, I’m not sure I understand the purpose behind lawn signs anyway. Yes, I usually stick one in the ground to irritate my Republican neighbors, which I admit isn’t a very neighbor-friendly approach to things. And, too, I know it’s the American way, and immigrants tend to conform to the peculiar habits of their host country. But still, do the signs have persuasive value? Walking to Grainger Hall on campus, I noticed a chalked statement on the sidewalk saying “Vote Dean.” It is really pathetic if you decide to vote for Dean based on a sidewalk chalk scribble.

2. I should not let my hostilities toward Nader-ites fester for so long. My neighbor is right: at the time of the elections, no one suspected how much damage GWB could do. Only in the last three years have we come to understand that long-term strategic voting, of the sort where you cast your vote so that you’ll have influenced the elections four years from now, is foolish, as we may not survive for so long under a particularly trigger-happy administration.

Youth scramble for Dean

Driving in to work today, I saw, at the edge of Campus Drive, a lamp post with a stack of Dean lawn signs adorning it all the way to the top. You know Dean has youthful supporters when you see something like that. I would NEVER EVER climb up a lamppost (how do you even do that?) to put up a sign for a political candidate, even if it meant an automatic handful of votes for that person. I know Wisconsin has a lot of tall men with names like Olaf and Lars, but this feat would have required a whole stack of them—one on top of the next. I’m thinking Dean is going to pick up some votes here after all. [Good. I can call my mother in California tonight and continue to placate her by saying agreeable things about her favorite, Dean (see yesterday’s post). Then, when she finally begins to recognize that it is over for Howard, I can capitalize on her vulnerable emotional state and start sending books and bribes so that she’ll switch her allegiance to the trailing John. The art of corrupt politics, duly recorded on a blog.]

Comments from someone who came to see the carpet (purchased from truck standing on the periphery of the largest-gem-show-in-the-world):

“It is the most beautiful trapezoid I have ever seen!”

me: “it is not a trapezoid: if you regard any very long rectangle from one end, it will form the illusion of a trapezoid”

“How come it doesn’t have those long threads at both ends like most Persian rugs have?”

me: “I asked that too. It’s because people have complained that the ends get sucked in by the vacuum cleaner.”

“If anything gets sucked in around here, it is perhaps you. You took the entire carpet as a carry-on?? They didn’t make you check it in?

me: “hey, you’re talking about a very special carpet from Afghanistan: I would not hand it over to just anyone.”

“Beautiful trapezoid. Absolutely exquisite.”