At Camp Obama

So I attended Camp Obama.

It wasn’t just any camp — no mini-bikes, no horsies, and forget about The Blob — because Camp Obama combines all the effectiveness of town hall meetings with all the charm of enthusiastic partisanship. Nonetheless, I had fun.

Though I got there late, the guys in charge were just as late in setting up — you’d think someone on this planet would remember to test sound equipment beforehand — so I had plenty of time to take in the surroundings before we got started.

It was like so many city college auditoriums built in the 1970s. There was ugly, filthy cement floors, slightly inclined stadium seating, and cream wall paneling tannish from age, accented with a deep blood red. A huge, once-white projector screen hung from the ceiling, slightly blocking a gleaming, new whiteboard. On this board were written the words: Camp Obama.

Though a few loudly complained about our Republican president and the hypocrisy of today’s Republican values within the Republican leadership — Republicans! — most of everyone else sat quietly by themselves, reading the handouts provided. There was nothing to suggest that this gathering was at all deeply political.

Then we got started.

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