By RUBI NICHOLAS
I like to think of elections as a choice between a number of candidates representing my views as a member of the public consciousness. It’s not like that though is it? The elections are more about being cast than being elected. All the commercials, rhetoric and talk about who “looks” more presidential make the election seem like a big reality show in which the audience gets to pick who plays the part of “leader of the free world." Even that phrase is so Hollywood.
My assembly was thankfully in Castle Rock, which happens to be my ‘hood, so I didn’t have far to go Saturday morning. I had fun, it was easy enough to chat with my fellow Dem “family” members. Most of us are from somewhere other than Colorado, so that’s the easy way to start a conversation with people. I had a bunch of comp passes for the Denver Improv, so I had those to give away. I really should have been a promoter, like Don King. Only with better hair. A lot better hair.
As I approached the Castle View High School, I took note of the general milieu, the guys outside campaigning for Mike Collins, local volunteers serving as ushers or shepherds, however you’d like to view it. They were okay, I told them I was a comic and just wanted to hang out looking for material. I talked about how my husband switched his party affiliation in December to Republican because he was on a one-man insurgent mission to take them down from the inside. He’s a Ron Paul supporter, with a prior record of voting Nader. So, if anyone should be sick of losing, it’s him. He’s kind of like a snobby teacher though, sitting on his “noble” high horse and smug in the knowledge that he has a built in “I voted for the right guy, don’t blame me” defense some time in the future when the citizens are lamenting "politics as usual."
Onward. I got there, and first saw the Hillary table – they had muffins. If I was a Barack supporter why wouldn’t I vote for her? Really…that’s the political strategy? Muffins. As a foodie myself, I commented on the muffins and naturally, the discussion turned to the differences between a muffin and a cupcake. One is a bread and the other a cake. Another remarked, “I thought it was the difference between breakfast and lunch." Riveting.
I moved on, but the conversation stayed with me.
We went in to the assembly hall - and that’s when the chaos began. What district was I in? I had my tag on, so I went with that – “voting district 19” – I took pictures of all that stuff and posted them on my myspace page. Me with the “credentials” door hanger looking thingy, the sign that said “credentials only”…what? It’ll be good for the scrapbook. I walked up the steps to my district area and saw my peeps. Precinct #127 represent!
The main dude on the stage started by leading the Pledge of Allegiance. It was eerie, I got chills when I said it. I stayed silent on “under God” on principle – everyone chooses, that’s what I love about this country. I realized in that moment, that I’d have to look at a bunch of cupcakes and choose the muffin. They all look good, sound good, the local politicians who spoke - and of course the candidates for the presidential election. But which of them had substance? Which of them could we consider bread - a staple - versus cake, a nice-to-have that certainly gives one a shot in the arm. But the energy quickly wanes, and one is left with a sugar coma, a diet squandered and vague sense of regret. I should have had the muffin.
We then had the unlucky job of voting on our piece of paper (oh, I took a picture of that too). There were loose guidelines printed at the top. The corner called out “19” to represent my voting district. The instructions read “if you are supporting Clinton, choose no more than 4 delegates." I looked on the sheet, there were four people running for delegate. I X’d off the boxes next to their names. O.K. I’m done. What time is it? Oh man, 9:45? What else is there to do? I had to fill out the form for the other guys. too. Mike Collins, Hank Eng, Mark Udall…K. Now I’m done. It’s 9:52.
A lot of people had questions. A guy behind me in district 22 said we could vote for Barack delegates also, even if we were there as Hillary delegates. What? I was done. What’s this about? I knew he was wrong. The instructions were clear, weren’t they?
Well, I couldn’t just sit there not knowing, so I stood up and called “chairman, we have a question up here” and loudly summarized our dilemma. An older gentleman who was a Barack delegate-in-waiting turned around and said, “You have a great voice, you should run for something”. Easy cowboy. I’m a cupcake. Sounding and looking good are what I do, here are some tickets, come to a show.
Besides, the only office that they were taking nominations for was County Commissioner. Now, if that job involved being in charge of the red phone and the Bat signal, I’m down.
“Commissioner Nicholas here, Batman, we need you downtown right away, the Joker’s just left you a gift…”. Not so, it was a real day job, with an annual salary and everything. The ironic thing is that they did want someone with a financial background and an advanced degree - two things I actually do have, but still it boils down to having icing and a crinkly wax paper baking cup holding it all together. What makes one a muffin then? It’s got to come from inside, I think. The substantive part of an elected official that distinguishes them from being a glib politician is the stuff that sticks.
There’s a guy I know in Castle Rock running for town council. His name is Chip Wilson – he’s got that indefinable something that makes you want to vote for him. He’s into it. Maybe it’s because I know him, or maybe it’s because he really is a muffin, and as a citizen I know that innately. Can I tell the difference between someone who’s phoning it in and just giving me the same old lip service - overpromising and underdelivering like the classic politician/cupcake? Of course I can. I’m an American, I know what I believe in and I just need to listen for the candidate who espouses those beliefs. Wait, Hillary’s table had muffins. It’s a sign.
Rubi Nicholas [1] is a first generation Muslim woman of Pakistani descent, and is the antithesis of what one might expect with such a strong ethnic background. Recently selected Nick@Nite’s “Funniest Mom in America,” Rubi's humor incorporates her ethnic heritage, her family life as a corporate woman whose husband is a stay at home dad, and the antics of her two little girls.