Up at 4am.  Out the door by 4:50.  In Concord, NH by 5:30.  Cold, very cold.  Hand warmers being distributed to volunteers.  I put them in my boots.  We are to be inside ushers, which means that once people go through security, we are directing them  – blue tickets this way, white and e-tickets, this way.  My particular job is to help people who need disabled seating.

The music is wonderful and I am dancing – to keep warm and because dancing feels good.  Good morning, I say and dance-direct people this way, that way.  Good morning they say and dance back.  Smiles, excitement, community, movement – it is all infectious.  We are happy to be here, happy to be coming together to see these wonderful men.

Before President Clinton appears, there is a big cheer as the snipers on the rooftops make their appearance.  Big gun cases, massive binoculars, vigilant.  Then there is a flock of secret service near the entrance, they take their places and suddenly there he is!  Silvery hair, that wonderful smile.  We listen, we cheer.  He is clear, funny, and as President Obama says, the Secretary of Explaining Stuff.  He introduces POTUS.  We are swallowed in cheers, in waving, in face-cracking smiles.

The President is so clear, so passionate, so real, that I cannot imagine why anyone would even think of voting for anyone else.  To me, he is a Bottisatva – a wisdom being, a goodness being – pure and generous. An embodiment of right action and right thought

At the end, I squeeze myself like a slippery flounder toward the front.  I want to shake their hands, I want to say thank you thank you thank you.  Bill Clinton is first, and his hand is soft and surprisingly small.  He looks at me and says, bless you.  Barack Obama’s hand is large, angular, and I am so close to that brilliant smile.  He grasps the hand of a small boy next to me who says to him, you are my favorite.  No, you are my favorite, he says, and disappears from view.