Just Back From Congressional Town Hall. The Dragon is Awake.

[TygrBright]

Back in the mists of time, I occasionally helped to organize Congressional Town Halls for the late, great Bruce Vento. So I knew the drill, I thought.

And knowing that a venue is generally selected based on the turnout for the previous Town Hall in that area, I figured it would be smart to arrive early, because there'd certainly be a bigger turnout this time. But, here in cobalt-blue Santa Fe, on a sunny but cold and windy Saturday morning, I estimated it wouldn't be that MUCH bigger. Ben Ray Lujan's popular here, he's more or less doing what a good Democrat should do at the moment, and the meeting was located right in our neighborhood.

Which, as I mentioned last week, is the smallest Ward in the County, and while not exactly inaccessible, it's off the beaten track. And there's another Town Hall scheduled for this afternoon in Rio Rancho (a formerly small town which has become a largish northern suburb of Albuquerque), at the High School auditorium, so I figured most people would be going there.

Rather than the community room of the South Side Boys and Girls Club, a few blocks from where we live.

We could have walked, but as previously mentioned, it's cold and windy this morning, and the Esposo and I are both at the tail end of URIs, so we decided to drive, and timed ourselves to get there 20 minutes early.

We could see from a block away that the Boys & Girls Club parking area was already full, the street parking was filling up, and a line was already forming outside the main entrance to the building. "Good thing we got here early" we told each other.

The parking area across from the Boys and Girls Club, which serves a small office building of businesses mostly not open on Saturday, was almost empty, so we decided to park there, pulling in behind two or three other cars that had the same idea. As we pulled into our spot, another car pulled up beside us. As we got out of our car, a woman got out of the car we'd pulled in next to. "Is it over there?" she asked, waving toward the Club building.

Guess she's not from around here, I thought. And sure enough, as we started walking toward the venue together, she mentioned she was from the other end of Santa Fe. We chatted as we circled the block to go around to the main entrance of the Club building.

A steady stream of people was joining us.

The library parking lot, across the street, was full. People were streaming toward the Club building from there, too.

By the time we reached the line, it was a good half-block long, and there were people in knots and groups up near the entrance.

We began to suspect they wouldn't have room for us all.

I know the Boys and Girls Club facility, the largest space they have would comfortably accommodate maybe 40-50 people in theater-style seating, and if they reeeeeeally squeezed, they could possibly get right up to the Fire Marshall's maximum of 80 for the space.

There were more than that in line as we joined it.

Everyone was cheerful, chatting, exchanging "have you heard about...?" and showing off their signs. As we stood in line some people began coming back from the building entrance. "They're full," they told us. "They can't let anyone else in, but they'll broadcast it out the window. And they say it's really important for everyone to at least get to the entrance and sign up at the sign-in sheets, so they'll get a bigger venue for the next one."

So we stayed in line.

So did everyone else.

More people were joining the line.

I caught sight of a guy with a Santa Fe New Mexican press ID on a lanyard, standing in the basketball court, taking a photo of the venue and the line.

The line moved slowly. A few people, having signed up, trickled back out. A few stayed, up by the windows and around the picnic tables, chatting.

We decided, given the cold and the wind, we'd sign in and trickle back out ourselves. They were saying the video would be posted on the Representative's website tomorrow or Monday, we could catch up with it there.

People were still arriving, when we finally reached the sign up table. There were stacks of filled-out sign-in sheets, one of the organizers was putting them in a folder. They had three clipboards going. I signed us up (the Esposo's handwriting is unreadable.)

We smiled and greeted a few neighbors, and began working our way back along the line, passing on the info about "stay in line and sign in, please" and the broadcast out the window.

No one said "aw, fergit it," and walked away from the line then and there.

More people were still working their way toward the venue, through the parking lot, along the street, in a steady stream. Some had signs. Some wore pussyhats.

By the time we got back to where we'd left our car, that parking lot was full. We'd been one of half a dozen or so cars when we left it. There were easily 20-25 cars there, and as we pulled out, someone else pulled into our spot.

As we drove away from the venue, we could see cars circling, looking for parking. The line outside the door was even longer than when we'd arrived, even longer than when we'd walked past it, leaving. People were still converging on foot, along the sidewalks, making for the main entrance.

The Dragon is awake.

I do not think it will be dozing off again soon.

determinedly,
Bright