On 061020

061020—that is the numerical expression of modern democracy.

The other night I bravely ignored my growing backlog of homework and left the comforts of my wife’s company to witness our American democracy in action. Senator Jeff Merkley was holding a town hall meeting at Clackamas Community College. I eagerly journeyed across town unsure of what to expect. I have taken every class available to me on the subject of politics, but I have rarely been an actor in the process myself. It was exciting to be taking the next step. It was exciting to be part of a bigger conversation.

I arrived early and started signing the guest log. It was the old habits of a combat veteran that made me case the room. I first noticed the security guard standing prominently by the way. He looked in good shape to run about seven or eight paces before his heart burst from the effort. He looked about as bloated as our national debt. If I were a more devious soul, I knew I would be safe from any consequences. The guard would never catch me or any other without at least a year of Dr. Atkins’ help.

It was easy to see the guard was just a show piece, but that made me really start thinking; why is our democracy’s first impression one of force? Was I really in any danger? Did a simple town hall meeting need a guard? I was not even halfway through signing my name and I already had a sinking feeling about the evening and the health of our democracy.

The next surprise came as I was asked if I wanted to ask any questions of the Senator. I was a bit taken back--I had not really thought of any great questions yet, having just only signed my name to the guest log. I had naively assumed I would sit and listened before deciding if I wanted to voice any questions. Not that night; I was pleasantly informed by a man in a suit that questions were by lottery. If I wanted to ask a question, I would have to have a raffle ticket. I was given the sage advice of, “Better safe than sorry, might as well take a ticket.” My raffle number was 061020.

I took my seat early and was rewarded with a good view halfway up and in the middle. The setting was absolutely Shakespearean. The meeting was being held in the school’s theater of all places. The soft lighting, raised seating, and modern stage, all silently witnessed to the fact I was about to watch theatrics, not democracy. The smooth jazz playing even set a relaxing mood as we waited.

I looked around the room as a slow trickle of participants filtered in. The most disheartening fact of the whole evening was the sea of gray hair. I could have counted the people under thirty with out using any toes. The majority of the crowd looked over fifty and a handful looked like they had flown with Eddie Rickenbacker. Where was my generation? Do they even care? Modern Warfare 2 has a pause button I think. I did, in the end, recognize a few of my fellow students of politics. The reason was not extra credit but they, like me, have been shocked into concern by a slightly combative political science teacher who, to his credit, is a voice that breaks through the clutter and make one actually think in college.

To get on with the evening though, Sen. Merkley was nicely introduced by our town mayor. I must admit I enjoyed watching him speak. It was the same feeling as watching a great ballplayer hit it out of the park or seeing Pete Townshend windmill on his guitar. I was watching a professional in action; he only misquoted the US Constitution once. He worked the crowed with a soft delivery and easy smile. He deflected anger smoothly and turned every question into a speaking point for his cause. He was the most articulate person in the room; the poor souls who went up to ask questions never really stood a chance no matter how upset they were.

True to my family’s luck, my number was never called. I had thought up many questions to ask while Sen. Merkley talked, but my chance never came. 061020 was just an unlucky number I guess. My evening started out with excitement, but ended being more like a crap shoot. What I witnessed of democracy made me think more of the time my dad took me to a casino than anything else. It only lacked a good Elvis impersonator. Democracy was reduced to a Powerball ticket. I left that evening thinking more and more about how my teacher describes our democracy as having a cancer. I also thought a lot about my desire to become a surgeon.