Yesterday was the Democratic state convention and I was a delegate. I wasn't sure whether it would be exciting or boring. Ray dropped me off at the Classic Center (it was raining). I found the registration, alphabetical by county, and picked up my packet. Then we had to stand in line to get our t-shirts. One line for paid, one for not paid. The lines were very long and curved around and mixed together. Jenny was directing people, but she would be talking with someone and five other people would get in the wrong line. I went and asked if I could help--couldn't we divide the list? No, they said, there is nothing we can do, we've tried. As each person came up, their name was checked off and they were given a lunch ticket (if they had paid). Then they were given a bag (that said coca-Cola on it), a little stuffed duck (AFLAC), and a t-shirt. There were blue and white t-shirts in 3 sizes (large, XL, XX). So they didn't make up the bags ahead, because they asked each person what they wanted. I went back there and started putting ducks and shirts in bags and lining them up on the floor, so they could ask for what they wanted and not have to wait for it to be assembled. We ran out of the blue and sometimes we only had 2 sizes, so it got easier. They stopped asking what color people wanted and just giving them one. After about half an hour, the line got shorter and I went and stood in it.

Then I went in the theater and found the Clarke County spot. Most of the delegation was on the other end and I didn't really sit with anyone I knew. There was a lot of official procedure, electing a chair of the convention, approving resolutions (honoring Tommy Irvin, who is retiring; recognizing anniversaries of the Voter Rights Act and the 19th Amendment  (women's right to vote). Every speaker and every person introducing the speaker said something about what a great year it was going to be and how we need to win...I admit to a certain amount of cynicism. We heard from the Young Democrats and the Women's Federation and other affiliate groups.

After about 2 hours, we had a lunch break. I know they gave me a ticket, but I could not find it. There was a long line of people picking up their lunches. Jenny tried to plead for me; she said she had seen my check and knew I had paid ($50 to be a delegate). By the time I got there, all the lunches were gone. They said that there had been 150 more people than they had been told. But they were still assembling them: a sandwich, a bag of chips, a cookie. I somehow managed to finagle a lunch, even though they insisted that they couldn't give me one without a ticket. I offered to pay the $8 a man was paying, but I only had a twenty. I think they would rather give me the lunch than make change. Drinks were at the end and I admit I took a Coke. I went down the escalator to find a place to sit. As I started eating, I realized the sandwich was turkey and a roll. I had to go back up to find lettuce, mayo, tomato and cheese. That tasted better. I spoke to a young man, Shane, who is a graduate student in Public Policy. I told him what I did. I said, "if you work in human services, you soon come to the realization that it is only by changing policy that you can really make a difference." I can't raise wages and improve living conditions or provide affordable housing.

After lunch, and some more preliminaries, the major candidates spoke. Mike Thurmond, who is from Athens, has been Labor Commissioner and is running for U.S. Senate. Jenny kept saying how good he was. He definitely was fired up. He veered over into religion some, though, which made me uncomfortable. Many of the candidates asked for God's blessing on us. Michael was the youngest of eight children; his father and grandfather were sharecroppers. He used to help his Dad sell watermelons off the back of a truck. (I've heard this story more than once). He said, "Son, if you work hard and all goes well, one day this vegetable route can be yours." We all laughed because Mike has done much better than that, one of the first African-Americans to hold state office in Georgia.

Russell Edwards is our candidate for US House of Representatives, running against Paul Broun, the tea partier. He is tall and young and looked and sounded pretty good. Except, as Jenny pointed out, he said a lot of things about how bad Paul is and not much about his qualifications (maybe because he has no experience). In private, he is quiet and intense.

Roy Barnes

We had state-wide offices: Labor Commissioner, PSC, Secretary of State (she is a fiery, ex-Army Captain), Education (Joe Martin), Lieutenant Governor (I love Carol Porter, mother of 4 grown sons--all at UGA?), and Governor. I don't really like Barnes, but he is the candidate. He has been governor before and is a little slick for my tastes. His speech seems too rehearsed, but he made some good points. He talked about what a difference a governor's election can make by citing 1962, when George Wallace was elected in Alabama and Carl Sanders in Georgia. Up until that time, Birmingham seemed to be destined to become the shining star of the South, attracting industry and growing larger than Atlanta. Governor Wallace soon made a speech about drawing a line in the sand: Segregation Today, Segregation Tomorrow...Soon there were bombings and 4 little girls were killed going to church because of the color of their skin. And business began to pull away from Alabama. Georgia was not impressive in their embrace of integration, but supposedly the governor believed in the rule of law and that is what he followed.

Then Ray arrived and he and I waited around to collect any materials from the candidates that they were willing to give us instead of taking back with them (not much). We dropped them off at HQ and went on home.

Meanwhile, Nancy H. had called to invite us to her house for potluck dinner and my Mom had made an apple cake, so all we had to do was show up. It was fun to talk to some of our neighbors. Ray enjoyed playing with the small children (only two). Dinner was great and healthier than a potluck anywhere else.

We watched a little TV and then to bed by 10. It rained at 11 or so. I am a little achy this morning--I have to wait another week for pilates.