The Day Of Evacuation

Happy New Year!

Despite the belatedness of that salutation, I sincerely pray as I begin today a new year of blogging, that this new year will truly be a blessed one for all my readers and friends. God speed!

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In just a few short hours, THEY will all just leave. They will leave New Hampshire faster than autumn foliage flies off trees in an October hurricane; they will leave faster than leaf-peepers empty their rooms at sundry inns at the first sign of heavy snow, or as fast as skiers leave the slopes in a downpour.

But in their rush to get out of here, jetting off to South Carolina or Michigan, THEY will leave behind thousands of campaign signs buried in December's record-breaking snows. It should be an ugly spring, as receding snowbanks reveal evidence of some strange temporary civilization, like creeping sand dunes reveal the detritus of a forsaken temple and court. Huckabee and Obama signs will appear in March; and Henry Hewes' name will stick out of the April mud, prompting not a few to ask, "Who the hell is Henry Hewes?"

Obama, Clinton, Edwards, Richardson, Kucinich, Dodd, McCain, Romney, Huckabee, Guiliani, Paul, Hunter -- these are just a few of the names that peer over snowbanks, that shout from telephone poles, that litter the New Hampshire landscape. Yes, tomorrow morning staffers will try -- in theory, at least -- to ride the roads and byways to retrieve the refuse of the democratic process; to collect signs of their favorite names. But they will not completely succeed to rid our land of this blight; there will be more than enough forensic evidence left behind to prove that some sort of crime has been committed.

Outsiders cannot know what it is like to be in this state, especially in those particularly gorgeous or photogenic or quirky areas of the Granite State that attract candidates for photo ops. Satellite trucks and news crews and photographers and placard-carrying supporters -- many supporters from every state but this one -- choke our streets, our sidewalks: a parking spot Saturday in Peterborough, NH was won with a prayer and toss of the dice, as was a seat in any restaurant, as McCain, Kucinich and Clinton campaign workers (these three were the most evident this day) brought their message everywhere. Such would be the routine the next day, and then the day after that, and then the day after that. And then? Well, tonight, everyone disappears.

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Yesterday I saw Bill Clinton. While his presence in my hometown was not huge, it was -- to some -- hugely disruptive.

Here's something for you to consider. As I stood outside the Peterborough Town House after Mr. Clinton's town hall-type meeting, dozens of folks walked by me as they exited that fine event. Not everyone exiting that impressive red-brick hall passed my way, but many did. And the most common statement I overheard was this, always uttered with a mix of dreamy nostalgia and wistfulness: "I wish I could vote for him again!" One must assume that such comments are not good news for Mrs. Clinton: voters LIKE her because they LOVE her husband. Such comments prove that this might very well be all about Bill: a vote for Hillary is really a vote for some vague, shadowy even mythological past. Indeed, as I stood in a gaggle of gawkers hoping to ogle the former president, everyone to a person commented with all due conviction just how "good he is" at communicating; that Bill Clinton just loves to work a crowd. But there were no similar comments in this nearly all-blue Democratic town directed at Mrs. Clinton. She was just "nothing special."

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Barack Obama comes out of New Hampshire the winner, or so I (easily!) predict (McCain will win the Republican vote, but it will not be the big news, nor will it last). But it must be remembered that New Hampshire has become something of a very quirky state: This is a state obsessed with politics (in a sense, it is probably our biggest industry). In fact, I would say politics are far more a religion in this state -- especially for those on the left -- than in many other parts of the United States. This ardor and zeal -- entirely overwrought, in my opinion -- is the direct result of New Hampshire's grip on the first in the nation primary. Should a national lottery be instituted that breaks that grip, the power base in this state -- also overwrought and misplaced and even a bit unnatural -- would be weakened considerably. In fact, a case could be made that the primary in New Hampshire is a stranglehold: diversity of opinion and opportunity are suppressed by a machinery that prepares constantly to mold a new leader every four years. Money pours in here by the train load; shakers and movers keep shaking but they don't really move, staying put to prepare the ground for the next election cycle.

For me, I am all for sharing the first primary with other states. I think a different state should start the process every cycle, and that a state should learn whether it will host a primary no more than 9 months in advance. I think we would get a better sense of the democratic process if candidates were unsure where they should begin their bids. Just think of how fun it would be to see candidates hastily stake out turf in a state that -- unlike New Hampshire -- has not been preparing for them for 3 or 4 years.

But I did start this section by pointing out that New Hampshire is a quirky state. In 1992, Republican Pat Buchanan nearly won the primary over George Bush I. But this was simply a protest vote: it was meant to push the elder Bush further to the right (Buchanan would win in 1996 over Bob Dole in a similar protest). The Buchanan protest tactic was to send a message: don't forget your values. The Obama victory may -- I emphasize MAY -- be in part a message to other Democratic front-runners, particularly Mrs. Clinton: We want you to be more like HIM.

Just primary thoughts.

Peace to you,

Gnade

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