Those pesky grass roots.

There was a lot of pedestrian traffic around the house yesterday. That is what happens when you live next to a polling place. I (David) voted early in the day (Heather voted Saturday as she spent 16+ hours as an election judge on Tuesday). As it turns out, quite a few of the pedestrians around the house were from various organizations that were attempting to get people to the polls to vote. I found myself stopping just shy of grabbing a broom to swat these people away from the front steps. Nevertheless, I found their presence to be a delightful sign.

This election has brought a lot of people out of the woodwork of their otherwise less public lives, and energized them to the point where they would be willing to voluntarily dedicate their time to tedious tasks (such as door knocking) that in the end (at least for most of the people who knocked on doors around here) may not have an effect on the greater outcome of the electoral college. Despite the broom in my hand, dedication like that festinates me. It causes me to wonder what would happen if the potential for dedication like that were portable enough to where it could be used in local matters that truly matter to the neighborhood. If all of the people who came to my door in the last few weeks were to volunteer at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving, or spend a day pulling buckthorn in the parks' wooded areas, or spend a few hour per month mentoring a neighborhood kid, or... or... or... etc. then I think that the neighborhood could collectively combat any and all of the woes it might face if the winning candidate is the one that these door knockers do not want to see win.

Granted, this election puts a lot more at stake in the world than what might be plaguing my neighborhood, but after seeing the potential of these human, fiscal, and social resources, I just have to wonder what happens to them after the election is decided. I know some of these people dip their thumbs in a variety of other (and/or the same) worthy pies, but I have the impression that most do not; or at least not to the same degree. But for those who do, I have much respect. Perhaps someday, I will have an ability and willingness to spend my precious time as a mentor, buckthorn puller, and turkey server (or 16 hours as an election judge).

But until then, I need my sleep.


In other news, I snapped this photo on my ride home from work on Monday. It would appear that they have successfully turned the old shantytown into a park-like area with curvy pathways. Unfortunately, even if these trails weren't laid out by a drunk survey crew, it would still take me a lot longer to commute along the bottom of the bluff that it would to take the monster Kellogg/3rd street hill. Biking down towards Battle Creek and back adds a lot of distance, and though less pronounced, the hill is still there. Hopefully someone will manage to find use of the park area though. I'm guessing there are a few displaced hobos that could utilize park benches and such.