Lessons in politics


“Telephone, Dad,” my daughter calls from the next room.

At age 6, Skyler already loves talking on the phone. Thankfully, she no longer carries her faux Barbie cell phone around (the rebellion started early in my house – her parents are the last Americans without cell phones). But Barbie or no Barbie, Skyler lives for the sound of the ring and loves nothing more than beating mom and dad to the receiver.

On this occasion, I make my way toward the kitchen, where she holds the phone with an intent look on her face. “Who is it?” I ask, almost nervously. Skyler replies by holding up one finger as if to say, “hold your horses.” Seconds later, all is revealed.

“Oh, it’s John McCain again,” my first-grader says. “Should I hang up on him?”

I nod, she smiles and the robotic voice inviting us to last Friday’s rally clicks off into oblivion. Skyler then goes about her business, awaiting the next ring.

This routine is already old hat. In the last month, Skyler’s has fielded a half dozen calls from McCain (and asked “what’s a terrorist?” and replied “that doesn’t sound like Obama” after I explained.). She’s heard nasty rhetoric from Bob Schaeffer, Mark Udall’s opponent, and effectively blocked calls from Dems, Republicans and Greens. My daughter’s also dismissed ridiculous statements like one candidate is putting “Hollywood before America.” The Great Telephone Campaign of 2008 has truly been beyond elementary.

But Skyler’s political life doesn’t end there. She frequently walks off the bus with updates from the school yard. Apparently, first-graders have been passing up the monkey bars at recess and occasionally discussing Washington and who their parents will be voting for next Tuesday. “Dad, you won’t believe it. Sierra’s parents are voting for McCain and Tina Palin,” she tells with a hint of concern.

Thinking back, my personal 6-year-old political career was a little more limited. In those days our phone (a mustard yellow rotary dial unit) barely rang at all, and Big Wheels and Fischer Jolly skis were the only planks in my political platform. I can remember getting my season pass that year, distinctly recall my Six Million Dollar Man Halloween costume and can even conjure up some pretty lurid episodes of Lawrence Welk. But I have no memory of another historic political fight in that other time.

Outside our box canyon, the presidential election of 1976 was steeped in controversy. Shortly after the resignation of Richard Milhous Nixon and in the wake of a little scandal known as Watergate, incumbent Gerald Ford was courting American voters. Ford was facing a relative unknown, Jimmy Carter, a one-time governor of Georgia.

Now here’s where the déjà vu gets especially rich. The Republican was answering criticism for a stalling economy and facing corruption allegations for his recent pardon of Nixon. On the flipside, Carter was running on a “change” ticket and promising to bring an outsider perspective inside the Beltway and reform the corruption of Washington. In the end, Carter won by a narrow margin in a nail-biter election.

Do I actually remember any of that action? Zero, zilch, nada.

The difference between my daughter and my 6-year-old self is that she gets it. Somehow, she knows that we’re a country at war. She’s aware that tough economic times are upon us and that “bush” can be a bad word in more ways than one. And even though her first choice for president (St. Nicholas) isn’t on the ballot, she has confidence in next Tuesday and knows that Barack Obama represents the best chance of getting this country back on track.

And so when I step into the election booth, I’ll be carrying a little welcome baggage. Yes, there’s an opportunity to end needless violence and war in Iraq and Afgahanistan. There’s hope that the greatest discrepancy between haves and have-nots in American history could be erased in coming years. For the first time in decades, Colorado voters are actually carrying some weight in a presidential election. And there’s a strong chance we can snub two-and-a-half centuries of American racism.

I’ll be filling in the second oval for all of these reasons, and one more. This year, my vote goes out to someone who is nowhere near voting age. You see, my 6-year-old daughter has just three more presidential terms until adulthood. And here’s to hoping that this peculiar American situation doesn’t get even worse in the meantime.

– Will Sands