What a Long Strange Trip It's Been

So…what’s new? Did you miss me? Ha! Kidding, of course. For the record, I have missed writing in this space, and it’s great to be back. Because the Wicked Local/Marblehead Reporter staff is so fantastic, the decision was made to suspend this column during my campaign for school committee. No candidate should have the advantage of weekly ink, so a break was best, and this paper is lucky to have editors and staff that have the integrity to know that. 

The totals are out now, and it’s clear that I did not win a seat, but it doesn’t matter, they have a full board now, and everyone on it will be awesome. What I learned running for office was worth every minute of the last six weeks. First off, I was not paying enough attention. I didn’t get into the race until the last day to file papers, and that’s on me. It may have been a late start, but hitting the ground running is a specialty of mine. Literally, every time I run, I eventually hit the ground. Wait, that’s not what that expression means is it? Anyway, when I ultimately decide to do something, I go full bore at it, much like Wile E. Coyote going over a cliff strapped to a rocket. My father, who was successful in all of his elections for school committee back in the day, always said, “Go big, or stay the hell home.”  OK, Dad, I did. And boy does that ground come up at you fast.

Now, I am educated; I earned a degree in English with a minor in Political science, but that was :::mumblemumble::: something years ago and none of those classes in constitutional law or political theory helped at all. Running for local office (and Tip O’Neill was right when he said all politics is local) is a process that while phenomenal, and a reminder that democracy lives, is one heck of a ride. Here’s what I learned.

1)    Tim Green at Ace Hardware is the helpful hardware man. If it were not for him, I would likely have put out an eye trying to load the heavy-duty stapler. I know I should all be all “Hear me roar” because capable women rock, but sorry, I grew up in the sixties, the only power tools I got to use were a hand mixer and a blender. Once I had it down though? I was a stapling champ with my signs and my posts.  Tory, another capable woman who, unlike me, can saw stuff in half and use a hammer without winding up the ER was there to help too, and it wouldn’t have happened without her.

2)    People are amazing. Sometimes. I had the great fortune to have good friends helping me, from running around in my car deploying signs, to coming to coffees and helping me organize events and social media. There were also a few who were not so amazing, but that’s what politics is. A whole bunch of people, all of whom have opinions. Clearly not everyone agreed with me on some issues, but that’s a good thing, in my opinion. If you want to have a real community where all are welcome in the process, you’re going to have those with whom you disagree. Talk to them anyway. And keep talking.

3)    Being on television, even a local access program, is gut-wrenching for someone like me with no fashion sense and no filter.  While there were only a few events that involved video, it was enough to send me into a writhing anxiety attack in front of my closet of boring mom clothes.  The League of Women Voters put on an amazing event to showcase the candidates, and my goal was to not get freaked out and let loose with my normal “colorful” vocabulary which is that of a well-educated sailor. Members of my family bet me I couldn’t do it. Ha, at least I won that round.

4)    Rain at 5pm on Election Day is a dream killer, especially when it comes with thunder and lightning. Many people vote after work, but in a downpour, not so much. And so it goes.

5)    Saying “I should” about something, but never actually doing it is for losers. So my campaign didn’t work out, so what? What did I lose? One thumbnail, a few bucks for signs and some votes. No biggy. I met people, I learned about a process from the inside out and I only fell down once, and thankfully I wasn’t carrying the stapler at the time. Don’t say, “I should” when “I will” is what is needed to make it happen. Good luck to all of our elected officials. They’re going to need it. In the meantime, what’s next?