I now have a 2-8 record for politicking over the last 16 years.
The guy I worked for lost. Not entirely a surprise considering he was running against the official Chicago machine favorite. I might add that this particular favorite had a debilitating stroke about a week ago, weighs about a ton and is like a thousand years old. Or was all these things, since I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been on ice for the last few days.
In Chicago being the candidate who is most likely to have a pulse for the General Election isn’t all that important, I guess.
Tuesday night’s election bash was at the Knickerbocker Hotel where volunteers and supporters bellied up to a cash bar (I’m still upset about that) watched returns, and made fun of Chicago media personalities there to cover the event. We knew it was going to be a long night since ballots from hundreds of precincts were mysteriously MIA, new voting machines weren’t “working”, etc. Fixing an election takes time. We all know this.
So anyway, I was standing with my $7 glass of wine talking to a fun, drunk couple when our Lt. Governor sauntered up and started talking to us like we were all friends for years. This is a guy whose past campaign tactics included holding a “Boston Tea Party” to protest high Chicago property taxes, by going on TV and telling us all to give tea bags to Mayor Daley to register our displeasure.( I’ll never forget turning on the news and seeing this guy with a handful of teabags shouting and carrying on. I was like, ain’t no way I’m giving Daley a tea bag.)
“Blah, blah, politics, I’m so great, politics, politics, blah,” said Mr. Lt. Governor.
He’s not bad looking, and I think he’s single so I decided to pull out best Monica Lewinksy because at that time I had like $21 worth of wine in me. I started talking to him about my hometown. He started telling me how he saved some island in the middle of the Illinois River when one of his handlers came and took him away.
Maybe I would have been successful if I had worn a beret.
My affinity for losing candidates goes way back. I was in third grade when I realized I was a Democrat. Our teacher announced that we were going to have a mock election, and immediately I started strong-arming classmates into voting for Jimmy Carter. He lost our class. I was livid.
Later that year, Miss Watson, the 2nd grade teacher came into our classroom one afternoon looking like she saw a ghost.
“President Reagan has been shot.”
I said aloud, but not loud enough for the teacher to hear (and this is the honest-to-God truth) . . . . good.
Good? I was an evil, liberal child, wasn't I?