So a couple of weeks ago I filled out an absentee ballot — school board bond issue, reauthorization of property tax, something like that — and was mildly curious about the fact that it didn't include anything about the presidential elections. But I'd heard that the courts had thrown out Washington's open primary system a while back, so I didn't give it much thought. I figured there'd been some party registration drive that I'd missed, or that the state Democratic machine was planning to settle things in some smoke-filled room in Olympia, or something like that. Oh well. Till I moved here I was always registered to vote in California, so I'm used to the idea that presidential candidates are chosen by a few spoiled people in Iowa and New Hampshire, rather than, like, by any process I might have any input into. So no change there.

Turns out I was only half right — earlier this week I found out that Washington was having Iowa-style caucuses, not primaries. Then I found out the caucuses were on a Saturday. Then, poking around on the web, I found out that my local caucus was going to be held literally a block from my apartment. Then I found out Saturday kendo practice was canceled.

Okay; running out of excuses not to do my civic duty here.

About five minutes after ten, and there's a definite increase in the neighborhood's pedestrian population. Two, five, seven, a dozen — lots of people in sweaters and waterproof REI jackets, some of them with dogs and/or children, all converging on the B. F. Day School. Some of them calling out to each other as they cross the soccer field. Obviously many of my neighbors take this whole 'neighbor' business a lot more seriously than I do. About 95 percent white — even whiter than the general makeup of the neighborhood. (I would have expected to see more Asians. There are a few, but not many. Maybe the older ones I see around are Republicans and the younger ones are foreign students.) Gray-haired, ponytailed couple in front of me — probably Kucinich voters. Nope, Dean. Darrel Schweitzer lookalike with a feather in his trilby — probably a Kucinich voter. (Nope, Dean.) Arty-looking Eurasian girl in a powder-blue parka — probably a Dean voter. (Nope, Kerry.) Rock-climbing engineer type and girlfriend — probably — okay, no more of that.

Line looks long, but it moves pretty quickly. Posters — Dean, Kerry, Kucinich, Clark, white on blue, all pretty much identical from a distance — all over the place; obviously none of the rules about campaigning within x-hundred yards of a polling place apply to this business. Guy with the feather gets the local Dean activist's last button. (The Dean activist looks like a certain sort of SF congoer: jeans, white T-shirt over pot belly, fanny pack worn in front.) (I may have imagined the fanny pack.) Herded down into the school's basement and told to divide ourselves by precinct, if we know what our precinct number is; good thing I brought my voter registration card. Cafeteria full — like, King’s Arms at the end of exam week full — with people closest to the tables holding up small pieces of paper with precinct numbers on them. No way I can get to the precinct sign-in sheet; just have to hope it all works out in the end somehow.

Oh, God, did I just hear someone mention Robert's Rules of Order? Let's hope nobody else heard him.

Call for volunteers to move (by precinct) out of the overcrowded cafeteria. 43-1352 enthusiastically rises to the occasion, our first collective act. Great, now I can drop my bag on the tray return shelf and take off my jacket. The bag's heavy and it's hot in here.

The sign-in sheet becomes accessible. By the time I get to it (actually, by the time the tenth or twentieth person in front of me gets to it) the neatly printed blue and white forms have gone away and we're down to yellow notepaper. From things like this — and the put-upon tone of the meta-precinct chairman, or whatever he is, who's going around from precinct group to precinct group shouting instructions and seems to think that we all failed to do our required reading before coming to class — I get the feeling that the local party machine didn't expect anything like the turnout they've got. Probably thought it would just be them and their political junkie friends and relations.

Wow, all these people live around here? Probably some of them are even from my building. I'd be sure that the fact that I don't know any of them was a sign of the collapse of civil society, only lots of them seem to know each other, so obviously it's just me. (Hey, she's cute — ah, she's talking about some guy; sounds like a boyfriend.)

Chorus

We're supposed to have a precinct chairman. Do we have a precinct chairman?

Anyone?

Okay, we don't have a precinct chairman, but we've got an officious type who's willing to open the Official Envelope and read the Official Instructions. Good for him; glad I don't have to do it. Looks like 43-1352 gets to nominate four delegates and four alternates, who go on to the next round of caucuses in May.

Put-Upon Guy is shouting (from the cafeteria) that we should all be voting now. Whatever, Put-Upon Guy; there are still half a dozen people signing in. As that starts to get done I suggest to the people nearest me that maybe it would be easier if instead of trying to count hands we all sorted ourselves into groups by candidate. The meme spreads; candidate posters are torn from the walls and held up.

Simultaneously:

Me

Dean people over here!

Woman next to me

Kerry people over here!

Woman on other side of crowd

Dean people over here!

Kucinich guy (already in the right place)

(Says nothing; just looks smug.)

Dean people from here go over there. Officious Guy is trying to count written candidate preferences on the sign-in sheet. Put-Upon Guy is shouting (still from the cafeteria) that we should sort ourselves into groups by candidate — way ahead of you, buddy — and then we get ten minutes to figure out which candidates are below the 15% minimum threshold and/or re-sort ourselves, either to reapportion voters for those candidates or to push those candidates over the minimum. Since we've only got four delegates, I'm not sure how much the 15% is going to matter.

Doesn't look like it's going to matter much; as we sort ourselves out it seems pretty clear-cut. Looking good for Dean.

Me

I can hold that sign, if your arm's getting tired.

Not looking good for Edwards or Clark or Sharpton — not only are they below the 15% threshold, they don't seem to have any voters here at all. Must have just been one enthusiastic Clark supporter with a stack of posters. Fair-sized groups for Kerry and Kucinich. (Not only does she have a boyfriend, she's a Kerry voter. Oh, well.) A couple of undecideds, apparently. Can't really tell any of them apart — no wonder my guesses were all wrong.

Put-Upon Guy (coming over to 43-1352)

Now that you've selected your delegates —

Me

Don't look at me — just 'cause I'm holding this sign, doesn't mean I'm in charge.

Chorus (to Put-Upon Guy)

You're ahead of us!

Put-Upon Guy

I'm not ahead of you, you've had ten minutes, no one will be allowed to vote after 11:00, I'm not going to repeat this, you should have read the instructions, don't ask questions.

Screw you, too, Put-Upon Guy. I thought this was supposed to be a democracy. But, regardless of Put-Upon Guy, we've got four delegate slots and three candidates, so we'd better count heads. Thirty-one for Dean. I don't know how many Kucinich and Kerry have got, but apparently it's not that many, because according to those closer to the border (and according to Officious Guy), Dean wins. So Dean gets two delegates and Kerry and Kucinich get one each. Probably there's some complicated mathematical explanation in the rules, but this seems obvious to everybody, so never mind. Anyway, right, now we thirty-one need to elect two Dean delegates.

Okay, forget elect. Have we got two volunteers?

One hand up. Right, I had that one pegged as the student activist type from the start. Have we got any others . . . ? All right, what the hell.

Me (Raises hand)

Me, sure, okay.

I guess we've got two delegates.

Selection of alternates follows; then paperwork. One of the Kucinich guys (I think), who's standing near Organized Guy, the sign-up sheet, and the Official Envelope, volunteers to be elected precinct chair, so we have a precinct chair to sign (the rules say "notarize"; how quaint) our delegate selection cards. We fill out said cards and some sort of official sign-up list that includes addresses, phone numbers, and email addresses. Hopefully the party machine will (A) remember to call us to tell us what to do about the county and/or legislative district caucuses, and (B) not use that list for fund-raising.

While we're filling out the paperwork, someone remembers that we're also supposed to vote on resolutions, to be forwarded for consideration as part of the state party platform, or something like that. The other Dean delegate, the one I had pegged as an activist, has brought one of her own — apparently she is with some advocacy group — and also has a couple that she's found lying around on tables. The one she's brought is about universal health care, and passes 28-3. The others are about working hours (mandatory minimum paid vacation, caps on overtime, that sort of thing) about the war on Iraq, and about the environment. I miss the details of the last couple since I'm busy with the paperwork. They all pass with a minimum of discussion, though a couple people object to the one on working hours on the grounds that it doesn't have a small-business exception.

Oh, yeah, we should probably give the Kerry and Kucinich people a chance to vote on these, too, since it's supposed to be by precinct. (Completely forgot about those guys. Amazing how quick these little sub-tribes form, isn't it?) Someone takes the resolutions over to the other groups, and our numbers on them over to Organized Guy and the precinct chairman.

I exchange names and phone numbers and email addresses with the other Dean delegate and the two alternates. We'll make sure we all get to the district convention, even if the party machine forgets about us.

I'm not sure this has been more democratic than primaries, but it's sure been more entertaining.

Hey, I'm a delegate. Isn't Mom going to be proud?

Several hours later

State-wide, the papers are reporting Kerry 49%, Dean 30%, Kucinich 8%. Apparently 43-1352 isn't very representative. If Dean concedes before the May caucuses, it's going to get interesting.