First day in the field

I'm writing this from an Internet Café next to the MGM Grand. We just had dinner after a long day in the field. But let me start from the beginning.

We met a small group of Planned Parenthood Advocate volunteers in the lobby of the Tropicana at 7:30 a.m. and headed to the staging area. After a few missed turns, we arrived at the Von's parking lot to see a fleet of minivans ready to transport volunteers around the city. On our way there, we were told that we'd all be drivers today. We soon learned that we couldn't drive because they have to do a DMV check on all drivers first. We may be drivers tomorrow which would give our feet a break.

As we entered a huge tent, we're told to stash all our Kerry pins and stickers. The organizing group, America Coming Together, is a 527, so we can't advocate for any particular candidate. It sounded stifling at first, but as the day wore on, it didn't get in the way of our work to motivate people who are known Kerry-supporters to get to the polls.

We had a quick breakfast of bagels and coffee and headed outside to the vans to get trained. We were each given a folder with maps, scripts and our voter lists. All six of us that had met at the Tropicana were assigned to the same van.

We headed out to our precinct and quickly found out that the concept of sticking in pairs just wasn't going to work. Robert went one way and I went the other, and we hardly saw each other until lunch. My list was made up mostly of large apartment complexes. Robert's list called for him to walk a whole lot to visit a few homes. But I went up a lot of staircases, so it's unclear who got the better workout. I think Robert feels he got plenty of exercise, judging from the way he scarfed down our Japanese Benihana-style dinner and the ice cream he just ate right in front of me.

All of the people on the lists were those who have already been identified as Kerry supporters, so I didn't run in to any undecideds of Bush supporters. Others did talk to some Bush supporters.

Over the next three days, each of these homes will be visited as many as four times. We're asking folks if they know where their polling place is (some don't), reminding them that election day is Tuesday (some don't know), and that the polls are open from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. We're also asking if they want a ride and if they know what time of day they plan to vote.

All in all, about 90% of the doors we knocked on were never opened -- code NH, not home. I ended up knocking on more than 120 doors. Robert visited 60 homes. I spoke to a young woman who just registered. She didn't know where to go. Her mother had already voted (Early voting ended yesterday), and I told her to make sure her daughter gets to the polls.

In the field, we saw a group of three Bush supporters canvassing. They told someone in our group that they were staying at the Venetian and they have 4000 volunteers. I don't know how many volunteers we have. I think we have more. Also, I saw a bunch of door hangers from MoveOn.org volunteers.

Our group of six came from Mountain View, Los Angeles, Los Altos, Chicago and Fresno. One of them is a Republican financial planner who is strongly pro-choice and equally anti-Bush.

Out in a neighborhood, even though we're part of a huge effort, it feels pretty quiet and isolated. I was expecting to see a lot more election materials and volunteers out and about. Along the strip, there's really no sign of election fever.

Clinton was here yesterday and today. Two of our six got to shake his hand yesterday. And Darth Cheney will be here once more before the election too. So, clearly, we are in the right place at the right time.

I realized that the eight hours we were out in the field was a long time to be disconnected from the rest of the world. We weren't aware of any of the news of the day. When we got back to the hotel, we learned that the polls haven't moved much, eight Marines were killed today and UCLA skunked Stanford.

So, if any big news happens, please e-mail me at mgrimes@valleywater.org. I've got my Blackberry.

Until tomorrow,

Marty