I do not belong to any organized political party. I'm a Democrat.
Back when I attended the Texas caucuses there was some concern that we might not have enough people willing to be Obama delegates, so I volunteered to be an alternate. I didn't stay until that part of the voting actually took place, almost no one did, but I figured I would check into it before the county convention, which was scheduled for today.
Thursday I received several emails, some from the Democratic party and some from the Obama campaign, urging me to attend the convention as an alternate and providing instructions on the process. I checked the Democratic Party's web site and found myself on the list of alternates for my district. Then I tried to locate my precinct captain and Obama organizer, neither of whom was listed anywhere in the emails or on the various web sites, although I was repeatedly advised to contact them. Calls to the Texas Democratic Party, the state Obama campaign headquarters, and the field organizer listed for my state senatorial district netted me one promise to call me back with information about who I should contact, but no actual information or call backs.
I wanted to know whether they were likely to need me as a delegate, since I had several other things that needed to get done today, but only my precinct organizer, whoever that is, would know. Despite the lack of information, and dire predictions that the convention was going to be a mess this year, I got up painfully early and went off to the convention to support my candidate. I figured that I could make contact with my precinct there and head home if I wasn't needed.
It took me around 90 minutes to get from where traffic was backed up trying to get onto the Expo grounds to an actual parking space (for which I had to pay) half a mile from the building. When I arrived there were dozens of lines outside the building. A reporter I spoke with (informally) estimated that there were around 8,000 people in the lines. And it had taken more than two hours to process credentials for the 4,000 people who were already inside.
There was less than an hour to go before the scheduled start of the convention, but I decided to stay in line anyway. Half an hour later it was announced that registration would be kept open as long as necessary to get everyone credentialed. Meanwhile, I had failed to find evidence of any organizers from my precinct, had to change lines twice as it was discovered that the long tails of the lines were badly jumbled, and gotten to know everyone around me in line.
It took just under four hours for me to get to the head of my line. At that point I discovered that I was not on the master list. Really, truly, several people cross-checked and my name was not there. So I was sent inside to the "credentials committee".
I only had to wait another twenty minutes before someone there was able to help me. And they had chairs to sit in while I waited, which was a huge relief to my throbbing back. A nice woman on the committee found my name quickly enough, but while it was on all of their computerized listings it was not on the handwritten list that had been submitted from our original caucus by my precinct captain. That handwritten piece of paper is the only official basis for providing credentials. Which meant that they couldn't give me any.
Just about everyone on the committee got dragged into the discussion, but the result was a foregone conclusion. They had no idea how that could have happened. They were very apologetic. But I might as well go home. Which I did.
All of that time, effort, and strain accomplished absolutely nothing.
I've spent the rest of the day alternating between anger and depression. I knew going in that my tiny contributions to the cause were not going to be significant in the overall scheme of things, but I was willing to make some sacrifices to do what I could. I wanted to be a part of the process. And, through no fault of my own, I wasn't.