John Edwards exits with honor, from Salon. Walter Shapiro

He sought to return the Democratic Party to its blue-collar roots. But a historic race ended his hopes for the presidency.

By Walter Shapiro

REUTERS/Lee Celano

Democrat John Edwards, flanked by his family and Habitat for Humanity volunteers Wednesday in New Orleans, announces he is withdrawing his candidacy for U.S. president.

Jan. 31, 2008 John Edwards declared his candidacy for president in the Katrina-ravaged Lower 9th Ward of New Orleans on Dec. 28, 2006. But, in hindsight, Edwards' hopes of winning the Democratic nomination probably died three months earlier, in mid-September 2006, when a non-candidate named Barack Obama electrified Iowa Democrats at Tom Harkin's annual steak fry, the signature political event in the must-win first caucus state. Edwards, who found himself unable to compete for air time and votes with two history-book candidates, bowed to the inevitable Wednesday afternoon back where it all began in the still ramshackle Lower 9th Ward.

Most losing presidential campaigns leave behind little more than bumper stickers, brochures and bruised egos. But Edwards' second run for the White House was different, because he had substituted boldness for blandness -- and ran as an unabashed heart-on-his-sleeve, union-windbreaker-on-his-back old-fashioned populist. As the most liberal (whoops, progressive) major Democratic presidential contender in more than two decades, Edwards walked the picket lines and spoke passionately of poverty and injustice.

What Edwards offered -- through all the debilitating and often irrelevant flaps over haircuts, hedge funds and humongous houses -- was an opportunity to return the Democratic Party to its blue-collar roots. As he put it with characteristic fervor Wednesday, "I don't know when our party began to turn away from the cause of working people, from the fathers who were working three jobs literally just to pay the rent, mothers sending their kids to bed wrapped up in their clothes and in coats because they couldn't afford to pay for heat."

Despite unverified rumors (vehemently denied by those close to Edwards) that promises of future Cabinet posts like attorney general had been floated, Edwards requested only one thing when he telephoned Obama and Hillary Clinton Tuesday night to confide that he was considering withdrawing before the Feb. 5 primaries. What Edwards asked for and received was a commitment from his erstwhile rivals that they make the eradication of poverty a central theme in their campaigns.

There was also another motif to the campaign that had nothing to do with poverty or policy. With sometimes raw and wrenching emotion, the Edwards crusade was also about living with cancer -- about embracing the future and facing one's own mortality at the same time. Elizabeth Edwards' candor and courage in confronting a diagnosis of incurable breast cancer may have been one of those events in public life that transform attitudes, much as Betty Ford's mastectomy in 1974 brought the disease beyond whispered voices in hospital corridors.

If there is a verdict on the Edwards campaign, it is that the candidate and his advisors played a weak hand well. Short of money and with no natural fundraising base other than trial lawyers, Edwards knew from the beginning that he had to win Iowa, a state where he had finished a surprisingly close second to John Kerry in the 2004 caucuses. Only victory would have given Edwards the press coverage and the TV time that he craved to compete with Clinton and Obama.

The 2004 vice presidential nominee was the perfect foil for Clinton in Iowa -- and some Edwards advisors believe, even now, that he would have beaten her nationally in a two-candidate race. But Obama's unexpected candidacy roiled all the careful Edwards calculations. Suddenly there were two White House candidates running on the change ticket (at times Clinton tried to make it three) and two outsiders railing against lobbyists. It did not matter that Edwards was first out of the box with a healthcare plan that mandated universal coverage, a bold position that Clinton (but not Obama) later matched. For no matter what Edwards did, he was constantly shoved out of the limelight. Obama described it accurately in the South Carolina debate when he talked about "a race where you've got an African-American and a woman ... and John."

Even after barely beating Clinton for second in the Iowa caucuses and then coming in a weak third everywhere else, Edwards did not have to abandon the campaign trail. Thanks to a late gusher of Internet fundraising, the money was holding up. His vote totals in South Carolina (18 percent) and Florida (14 percent) suggested that he could continue in many states to score above the threshold (15 percent) for accumulating delegates. His top campaign advisors even held a conference call with reporters Tuesday afternoon to lay out their campaign plans for the Feb. 5 states. And Edwards himself spoke to a raucous campaign rally in St. Paul, Minn., Tuesday night.

But by that point, the candidate was already facing the inevitable. He flew home to North Carolina on Sunday night to talk with Elizabeth -- his closest and often only confidant -- who had been off the campaign trail with a bad cold. (She was, however, in New Orleans on Wednesday). As a close friend of Elizabeth's put it, "She had hit a wall with the campaign, and it had nothing to do with her health. She just couldn't see a path to the nomination."

John Moylan -- a South Carolina lawyer who headed the campaign in that state's primary and traveled with Edwards constantly in recent weeks -- said, "I don't know if John himself knew that the decision was coming right after South Carolina. It came upon him gradually." And top strategist Joe Trippi explained the timing of the decision like this: "It became increasingly clear on Sunday and Monday that we were totally blocked out of the news story. John Edwards didn't want to play politics. He didn't want to stay in the race to be a kingmaker or a spoiler. There was just not a clear shot at the nomination."

For all the glib TV talk about a forthcoming Obama endorsement, there is a sense in the Edwards camp that any decision on where he will throw his support and direct his 50 delegates will be made deliberately -- and there is no guarantee that he will pick a candidate to bless. As Moylan said, "I think he will do nothing for the immediate future and just let it all settle in."

It is difficult in politics, as in life, to watch a dream die. John and Elizabeth Edwards have banked the last six years and maybe longer on seeing him in the White House. But there is also honor in having run a high-minded race for president on long-neglected Democratic issues, even if you fail. By that standard, Edwards is a success story even as he leaves the political stage to Clinton and Obama.

Vote for Al (len Franken).. or help support him

Responding to Recession

Note from Greetings: As usual, Paul Krugman gets it right in reminding us to look at the candidates stands on issues - not what they are saying about each other, nor what the press is saying about their looks or mannerism. Sage advice for a country that needs someone with ideas.

January 14, 2008
By Paul Krugman , Op-Ed Columnist , NY Times

Suddenly, the economic consensus seems to be that the implosion of the housing market will indeed push the U.S. economy into a recession, and that it’s quite possible that we’re already in one. As a result, over the next few weeks we’ll be hearing a lot about plans for economic stimulus.

Since this is an election year, the debate over how to stimulate the economy is inevitably tied up with politics. And here’s a modest suggestion for political reporters. Instead of trying to divine the candidates’ characters by scrutinizing their tone of voice and facial expressions, why not pay attention to what they say about economic policy?

In fact, recent statements by the candidates and their surrogates about the economy are quite revealing.

Take, for example, John McCain’s admission that economics isn’t his thing. “The issue of economics is not something I’ve understood as well as I should,” he says. “I’ve got Greenspan’s book.”

His self-deprecating humor is attractive, as always. But shouldn’t we worry about a candidate who’s so out of touch that he regards Mr. Bubble, the man who refused to regulate subprime lending and assured us that there was at most some “froth” in the housing market, as a source of sage advice?

Meanwhile, Rudy Giuliani wants us to go for broke, literally: his answer to the economy’s short-run problems is a huge permanent tax cut, which he claims would pay for itself. It wouldn’t.

About Mike Huckabee — well, what can you say about a candidate who talks populist while proposing to raise taxes on the middle class and cut them for the rich?

And then there’s the curious case of Mitt Romney. I’m told that he actually does know a fair bit about economics, and he has some big-name Republican economists supporting his campaign. Fears of recession might have offered him a chance to distinguish himself from the G.O.P. field, by offering an economic proposal that actually responded to the gathering economic storm.

I mean, even the Bush administration seems to be coming around to the view that lobbying for long-term tax cuts isn’t enough, that the economy needs some immediate help. “Time is of the essence,” declared Henry Paulson, the Treasury secretary, last week.

But Mr. Romney, who really needs to take chances at this point, apparently can’t break the habit of telling Republicans only what he thinks they want to hear. He’s still offering nothing but standard-issue G.O.P. pablum about low taxes and a pro-business environment.

On the Democratic side, John Edwards, although never the front-runner, has been driving his party’s policy agenda. He’s done it again on economic stimulus: last month, before the economic consensus turned as negative as it now has, he proposed a stimulus package including aid to unemployed workers, aid to cash-strapped state and local governments, public investment in alternative energy, and other measures.

Last week Hillary Clinton offered a broadly similar but somewhat larger proposal. (It also includes aid to families having trouble paying heating bills, which seems like a clever way to put cash in the hands of people likely to spend it.) The Edwards and Clinton proposals both contain provisions for bigger stimulus if the economy worsens.

And you have to say that Mrs. Clinton seems comfortable with and knowledgeable about economic policy. I’m sure the Hillary-haters will find some reason that’s a bad thing, but there’s something to be said for presidents who know what they’re talking about.

The Obama campaign’s initial response to the latest wave of bad economic news was, I’m sorry to say, disreputable: Mr. Obama’s top economic adviser claimed that the long-term tax-cut plan the candidate announced months ago is just what we need to keep the slump from “morphing into a drastic decline in consumer spending.” Hmm: claiming that the candidate is all-seeing, and that a tax cut originally proposed for other reasons is also a recession-fighting measure — doesn’t that sound familiar?

Anyway, on Sunday Mr. Obama came out with a real stimulus plan. As was the case with his health care plan, which fell short of universal coverage, his stimulus proposal is similar to those of the other Democratic candidates, but tilted to the right.

For example, the Obama plan appears to contain none of the alternative energy initiatives that are in both the Edwards and Clinton proposals, and emphasizes across-the-board tax cuts over both aid to the hardest-hit families and help for state and local governments. I know that Mr. Obama’s supporters hate to hear this, but he really is less progressive than his rivals on matters of domestic policy.

In short, the stimulus debate offers a pretty good portrait of the men and woman who would be president. And I haven’t said a word about their hairstyles.

Rating Bush, on a scale of 1 to 10

Note from Greetings: More nuggets of wisdom from Dan Froomkin. This time in Nieman Watchdog. Why DOESN'T the press ask the Republican candidates what they think about Bush's policies... why didn't they oppose them at the time... did they vote for them, etc? I believe they need to answer now for their actions and inactions over the last 8 years. And why is the press afraid to ask these questions? It doesn't seem to have come up in any of the debates...articles...or anywhere. Was Bush a ghost?

ASK THIS December 13, 2007 Dan Froomkin, www.NiemanWatchdog.org
Republican presidential candidates avoid talking about President Bush, for obvious reasons. But journalists should press them to say what they think of Bush's legacy, which elements of his presidency they would emulate, and which they would reject.

By Dan Froomkinfroomkin@niemanwatchdog.org

The Republican candidates for president rarely mention their party’s deeply unpopular standard-bearer these days, particularly in their debates. In Harry Potter-speak, President Bush has become He Who Must Not Be Named for Republicans.

Bush’s name was uttered only twice during the GOP’s two-hour-long CNN/YouTube debate on Nov. 8. CNN correspondent Carol Costello observed: "It sure seems like Bush has become a four letter word you don't want to mention if you're a Republican running for office. They've taken to talking about him in code -- not daring to say Bush, but not shy about promoting his agenda.”

At the Dec. 9 Univision debate in Miami, the name Bush was mentioned once, by Sen. John McCain. And McCain was referring to the president’s brother Jeb, the former governor of Florida.

At yesterday’s Des Moines Register debate, the Bush name again came up only once. This time, it was former governor Mitt Romney talking about the current president's dad.

The reasoning is obvious. Publicly identifying with Bush is a losing proposition overall, given his dismal job-approval ratings. But attacking the president risks upsetting the Bush loyalists who, while few in number, make up a good chunk of Republican primary voters.

Furthermore, keen political observers have noted that Republicans are very eager not to make 2008 a referendum on Bush, because on those terms, there is little doubt they would lose.

And yet, what the GOP candidates think of the Bush presidency – what they consider its strengths and weaknesses, which elements they would emulate, which they would reject – is crucial information for anyone trying to figure out what they would be like as president themselves. In fact, it’s hard to imagine what could be more important.

As it happens, there is one way to get the candidates to address the Bush legacy in their debates or elsewhere.

And that’s to ask them. Here are some possible questions:
Q. Do you approve of disapprove of the job President Bush is doing?
Q. On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate Bush as president?
Q. What would you consider some of Bush’s greatest successes?
Q. What would you consider some of Bush’s greatest failures?
Q. Had you been president, would you have invaded Iraq?
Q. If you had to give President Bush a grade for how he managed the war in Iraq, would it be an A, B, C, D or F?
Q. What decisions if any would you have made differently if you had been in charge these past seven years?
Q. How would you assess President Bush’s credibility? High? Low?
Q. Do you approve of the job Vice President Cheney is doing?
Q. Historically, the vice president has been in a more subordinate role. Do you think Bush was overly influenced by his vice president? Would you expect your vice president to serve a similar function?
Q. Historically, a main job of national security adviser has been to serve as an honest broker between other parties, to make sure the president was making decisions based on accurate information, and to present the president with alternative options and dissenting views. By most accounts, Condoleezza Rice was not that sort of national security adviser. Do you think Condoleezza Rice did a good job as national security adviser? Would you expect your national security adviser to operate differently?
Q. Do you feel President Bush has been operating in too much of a bubble?
Q. President Bush rarely ventures out in public, and almost always talks to invitation-only audiences. Historically, presidents have appeared at events that were open to the public, at least in part to make it clear that they had been chosen to represent the whole country, not just those who voted for them. Would you return to this tradition?
Q. Would you continue President Bush’s practice of using signing statements to quietly assert his right to ignore legislation passed by Congress?
Q. President Bush’s lawyers have asserted that there are few Constitutional checks on a wartime president. Do you agree? And would you consider yourself a wartime president?
Q. Do you think President Bush is within his rights to assert executive privilege to block the testimony of White House aides in the investigation of the politically-motivated firings of U.S. Attorneys? Would you do likewise in similar circumstances?
Q. Some critics have accused the Bush White House of being dominated by politics, at the expense of policy. Do you think Bush got the balance between campaigning and governing about right?

Only An Expert Can Deal With a Problem, Laurie Anderson

Just as wise 25 years after "O Superman".

The Swollen Monkeys - "Ghost in Hollywood"

New York's original punk horn section from the 1980's.... and some great jazz players, as well. Live at Hurrah's (punk/alternative club) in NYC with Sun Ra. They went on to join or tour with The Waitresses, Tom Waits, The Psychedelic Furs, Elvis Costello... and many, many other influential bands.

The Swollen Monkeys - "Dave's Car"

Live at Hurrah's, NYC, 1981 or 82

The Swollen Monkeys

Long before they joined The Waitresses (I Know What Boys Like), they were in The Swollen Monkeys. Here's a show in 1981 or 1982, where they were doing a double bill with Sun Ra at one of the new "punk/alternative" clubs in NYC... called Hurrah.

Ed Rollins: More Dirty Tricks (this time for Huckabee)

Note from Greetings: If you think Huckabee is a "down home guy", all you have to know is that Ed Rollins, part of the old Bush apologists and dirty tactics crew, is leading Huckabee's campaign. Read on.

The Sleuth, Mary Ann Akers, Washington Post, January 7, 2007

If you thought Iowa was full of dirty tricks, wait 'til you get a load of the fun Iowa caucus winner Mike Huckabee's campaign chairman has in store for New Hampshire!

A blogger for Townhall.com was the only other person in a little dive restaurant in Des Moines Thursday where the legendary political operative Ed Rollins happened to be dining with his wife - and, luckily for the blogger, talking (and cursing) loudly.

The blogger's notes are full of wonderful little nuggets, such as Rollins - who proudly considers himself a bare-knuckles bruiser - calling NBC newswoman Andrea Mitchell "sweetie," and telling CNN Immigration Czar Lou Dobbs that he'd be ready to have drinks with him after Iowa to strategize about "Hillary."

Rollins, while he munched on a tuna melt sandwich during his phone chat with Dobbs, also made reference to his now infamous comment about needing to check his temper around Mitt Romney "whose teeth I want to knock out." In the restaurant, according to the blogger, Amanda Carpenter, Rollins told Dobbs: "they are all porcelain."

Carpenter also writes that Rollins was telling his "blonde female dining companion" - who turned out to be Rollins' wife - that Rudy Giuliani is "done" and was "hurt terribly by those police cruises with his girlfriends." Rollins, in an interview later with Chris Wallace on Fox News, didn't deny saying any of this. (Click on this link to Townhall.com to see the Fox News video.)

While he "let the f-bomb fly twice," Rollins reportedly also "distinctly talked about going negative in South Carolina and told someone on the phone to 'put some good in there if you have to, with the bad. Do what you gotta do.'" Rollins also apparently indicated he believed Huckabee was the victim of "dirty tricks."

Well, bless his heart - as they say in South Carolina, where Huck apparently will do what he's gotta do to keep Christian evangelicals on his side.

From Hype to Fear

January 7, 2008
Op-Ed Columnist, NY Times

By Paul Krugman

The unemployment report on Friday was brutally bad. Unemployment rose in December, while job creation was minimal — and it’s highly likely, for technical reasons, that the job number will be revised down, showing an actual decline in employment.

It’s the latest piece of bad news about an economy in which the employment situation has actually been deteriorating for the past year. It’s no longer possible to hope that the effects of the housing slump will remain “contained,” as one of 2007’s buzzwords had it. The levees have been breached, and the repercussions of the housing crisis are spreading across the economy as a whole.

It’s not certain, even now, that we’ll have a formal recession, although given the news on Friday you have to say that the odds are that we will. But what is clear is that 2008 will be a troubled year for the U.S. economy — and that as a result, the overall economic record of the Bush years will have been dreary at best: two and a half years of slumping employment, three and a half years of good but not great growth, and two more years of renewed economic distress.

The November election will take place against that background of economic distress, which ought to be good news for candidates running on a platform of change.

But the opponents of change, those who want to keep the Bush legacy intact, are not without resources. In fact, they’ve already made their standard pivot when things turn bad — the pivot from hype to fear. And in case you haven’t noticed, they’re very, very good at the fear thing.

You see, for 30 years American politics has been dominated by a political movement practicing Robin-Hood-in-reverse, giving unto those that hath while taking from those who don’t. And one secret of that long domination has been a remarkable flexibility in economic debate. The policies never change — but the arguments for these policies turn on a dime.

When the economy is doing reasonably well, the debate is dominated by hype — by the claim that America’s prosperity is truly wondrous, and that conservative economic policies deserve all the credit.

But when things turn down, there is a seamless transition from “It’s morning in America! Hurray for tax cuts!” to “The economy is slumping! Raising taxes would be a disaster!”

Thus, until just the other day Bush administration officials were in denial about the economy’s problems.

They were still insisting that the economy was strong, and touting the “Bush boom” — the improvement in the job situation that took place between the summer of 2003 and the end of 2006 — as proof of the efficacy of tax cuts.

But now, without ever acknowledging that maybe things weren’t that great after all, President Bush is warning that given the economy’s problems, “the worst thing the Congress could do is raise taxes on the American people and on American businesses.”

And even more dire warnings are coming from some of the Republican presidential candidates. For example, John McCain’s campaign Web site cautions darkly that “Entrepreneurs should not be taxed into submission.

John McCain will make the Bush income and investment tax cuts permanent, keeping income tax rates at their current level and fighting the Democrats’ plans for a crippling tax increase in 2011.”

What “crippling” tax increase, which would tax entrepreneurs into submission, is Mr. McCain talking about?

The answer is, proposals by Democrats to let the Bush tax cuts for people making more than $250,000 a year expire, returning upper-income tax rates to the levels that prevailed in the Clinton years.

And we all remember how little entrepreneurship there was, how weakly the economy performed, during the
Clinton years, right? Oh, wait. (I’ve put some charts comparing job performance during the Clinton and Bush years on my Times blog, krugman.blogs.nytimes.com. It’s pretty startling how comparatively weak the Bush era looks.)

Never mind. The whole point of scare tactics is that they can work even in the face of inconvenient facts.

And what I’m not sure about is whether the Democrats are ready for the fight they’re about to face.

Not to put too fine a point on it, Barack Obama won his impressive victory in Iowa with a sunny, upbeat message of change.

But there’s a powerful political faction in this country that understands very well that any real change will create losers as well as winners. In particular, any serious progressive reform of health care, let alone a broader attempt to reduce middle-class insecurity and inequality, will have to mean higher taxes on the affluent. And members of that faction will do whatever it takes to scare people into believing that change means disaster for the economy.

I don’t think they’ll succeed. But it would be a big mistake to assume that they won’t.

Iowa Then...

Note from Greetings: "As I remembered it, too."

by Mildred Armstrong Kalish, NY Times
January 3, 2008
Op-Ed Contributor
Cupertino, Calif.

LIKE many Americans, I’ve been tuned into the nonstop coverage of the Iowa caucuses. Unlike many Americans, I’m an actual Iowan, having grown up there in the 1930s. As I watch and listen from the promised land of California, where I moved long ago, I can’t help but keep returning to a twin observation: Yes, this is really different from the Iowa of my childhood — but it’s also kind of the same.

The difference is obvious and inescapable. The hypersaturated media and political attention we take for granted today depends on a system of communication that is fast, reliable and far-reaching. In my time such a system did not exist.

In the small town of Garrison, where I grew up, most houses had just a telephone, a big wooden boxy affair that was attached to the wall in the kitchen. A telephone switchboard installed in the front of one of the two gasoline filling stations on Main Street, which was all of four blocks long, was efficiently operated by Gesena Gross, an old maid. (That’s what we callously called unmarried females in those days.) She was known as “Central.” Her official hours were from about 6 a.m. to 8 p.m. She also had a switchboard in her home where one could call after hours in an emergency.

The farms had to share telephone lines; each family was assigned different rings so you could know whom the call was for. For instance, the Irwins would have one long ring and two short ones; the Burkeys would be assigned three short rings; the Boldts would have one long, one short, one long and one short and so on.

The problem arose when people on the same line would listen in on someone else’s call and thus drain the power. The exasperated original callers could barely hear each other and there would ensue a request to the unwelcome eavesdroppers, incremental in intensity. “Will one or two of you please hang up your receivers?” and ending with “Get off the damn line!”

As for other forms of communication, Garrison had no newspaper and no mail delivery. Residents daily walked to a post office on the town square. I do recall that there was mail delivery to the surrounding farm houses; the job was not highly paid but it was coveted because it came, on retirement, with a federal pension.

And radios? Most people owned simple devices that were powered by a battery or a small wind generator on the roof. Electrification came with the New Deal a few years later.

So where are the similarities?

Though Iowa has been holding caucuses since the mid-1800s, the rest of the country didn’t pay attention to them until recently, and I don’t even remember them from my childhood. What I do remember, though, are the passionate political gatherings that regularly took place on my grandfather’s front porch. It occurs to me that these were not so different in spirit from the caucuses we are enduring now.

I recall the scenes from early in the ’30s. In early evening, after supper, about a half a dozen of the older men from the area would gather to chew the fat. After discussing local matters, the talk quite often turned to the who, why and how of political preferences.

Grandpa was a slight man, constructed mostly of bone, muscle and gristle. He liked to sit or stand quietly with his hands loosely clasped inside and just above the top of the bib of his denim overalls. He seldom raised his voice and he spoke softly and thoughtfully. He sounded authoritative.

Some of the men I remember: Ed Meece and Cap Gross were assertive Republicans; they were Herbert Hoover supporters. So was A. J. Donald, our neighbor and a banker. These gentlemen didn’t think government should intervene in public affairs to fix the economy. They were certain that Franklin Roosevelt would ruin America.

Alex Irwin, Clarence Barkdoll and Ed Baldwin (our only druggist) — and Grandpa were dedicated Democrats who derisively pointed out “Hoover villages” made of cardboard and flimsy lumber. (They called newspapers “Hoover blankets.”)

Grandpa was the only one of the group who was a farmer. And he understood that Roosevelt’s programs would help the rural areas. In particular, I remember him talking about Roosevelt’s promise to create “Farm to Market” roads that would put crushed rock mined from local limestone quarries on top of the dirt roads that storms turned into impassable mud paths, a monumental plague of the farm communities.

My grandfather’s mini-caucuses and passions weren’t just reserved for adults, though. Most mornings, before we trotted off to school, he would assemble my three other siblings and me. Generally, he’d read us a few cogent Bible verses while we stood there, all gussied up in our clean school clothes, dinner pails in hand, champing to be off to see our classmates.

One morning, just as the Roosevelt-Hoover race was heating up, Grandpa glanced up during his reading and noticed a large pin on my older brother Jack’s shoulder. (Jack was probably 12 at the time.) The button, with bold black letters on a white background, read “Hoover.”

Grandpa froze; his face took on a grim, stony look; he gritted his teeth. Without seeming to look at the Bible, he finished his reading abruptly. Staring directly at Jack, he tapped his own shoulder and then pointed to the basket of corn cobs that fed the kitchen stove. In a split second, Jack plucked the offending emblem from his shoulder and flung it into the corn cobs. We went merrily off to school. Roosevelt won that election.

Mildred Armstrong Kalish is the author of “Little Heathens: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression.”

... And Iowa Now

Another note from Greetings: Makes me proud to have been born and raised there. Fierce independence is the best remedy. And this essay shows it hasn't changed from the previous essay on "old times" in Iowa.

January 3, 2008
Op-Ed Contributor, NY Times
By LAN SAMANTHA CHANG
Iowa City

SOON, life here in Iowa returns to normal.

After months of campaigning from basement apartments, the guests from out of state will head for the airports. Their vacated apartments will be aired out and put to order. As several thousand reporters move on to New Hampshire, the local talk will turn from caucusing to a more global topic: weather. Iowans will settle in for the heart of winter, when the political yard signs will be buried in snow.

As recent newcomers from Massachusetts, my husband, Rob, and I will regret the closing of the Iowa primary season. We are awestruck to find ourselves living in a state where we need only walk three blocks to see pop icons opening for major candidates. We are thrilled to live where home prices are such that we don’t have to be millionaires to put up a political yard sign. This year, we rushed to participate. In mid-October, we signed commitment cards and planted the symbol of our candidate on our front lawn.

In contrast, our more experienced Iowan friends and neighbors are philosophical about their role in American politics. I wouldn’t say jaded. The 10 percent who will brave the snow and cold to attend precinct caucuses take this responsibility to heart, but they don’t let it go to their heads. This year, many waited to make their decisions. They talked to half a dozen candidates they did not end up supporting. Some will stay undecided until tonight. And with the caucuses soon to be over, there are those who even look forward to moving on.

Our neighbor with the astonishingly beautiful garden looks forward to getting his seeds in order for the summer. He has lived in our precinct for so many years that he can remember much earlier waves of political activism, as well as the previous, unfortunate preferences of other caucusing neighbors. Like everyone on our block, he has been bombarded with political mail, but he is happy to report that he also received nine gardening catalogs on Monday.

At the Hamburg Inn No. 2, a popular campaign stop downtown, the owner, Dave Panther, is reflecting on the primary season and, of course, the weather. In 2007, the Hamburg served several candidates and their spouses, including Bill Clinton (Swiss, tomato and green pepper omelet with home fries); Barack Obama (Iowa omelet of ham, hash browns and American cheese, with sweet-potato pancakes); and Mitt Romney (“It was so crowded,” says Mr. Panther, “that he didn’t have time to eat.”).

What does he make of having been at the white-hot center of American presidential politics? “Well,” he says slowly, “the business helped us in December to make up for the weather. The weather hurt us, but the political end kind of held the month up.”

Every four years, the restaurant holds its Iowa Coffee Bean Caucus Pre-Election Poll. Patrons vote by putting a coffee bean in a glass jar marked for their candidate. This method is quintessentially Iowan: truth-seeking, modest and concrete. It is conducted with household objects that are reusable and/or consumable, although

Mr. Panther tosses the beans after the caucus because “they’ve been handled — a lot.” But when all the beans have been counted, it is theoretically possible to simply gather the results and add them to the brew. No big deal.

As our season in the national spotlight comes to an end, some have asked, “Why Iowa?” Why this hoopla for the votes of a state with more pigs than people? To this, I would respond, “Why not Iowa?” It has no national sports teams; there is plenty of untapped loyalty in the air. Its appreciation for diversity, I think, is underrated. Most important, Iowans possess a healthy Midwestern skepticism paired with a remarkably low level of cynicism. They are confident in their right, held by all Americans: the right to hold the future of the nation in their hands.

Tonight, when Rob and I stand in the local high school cafeteria with new friends and neighbors, we will be reborn as Iowans. Tomorrow, when it’s all over, we will settle in for a long winter. We will purchase warmer clothing. We will spin winter dreams, like new strategies for the next hotly contested caucus season. Next time, we will make the most of our moment in the spotlight. We will be “undecideds” for as long as possible.

Lan Samantha Chang is the director of the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop.