Throughout my life, I've been a fascinated observer of the quadrennial phenomenon of American presidential elections, going back to when I was seven years old, in the summer of 1972. Whenever the presidential election rolls around, I feel a pull towards understanding the psyche of the American electorate in the way in fits into the long patterns of history since the 18th century. The morphings of the Electoral College over the decades is particular fascinating to me.
Since those early days in my youth, I've been keenly aware that the reality of the American electorate is often very different from the Pop Culture of America that ones sees on television. At times this has resulted in "surprise" results on election day, as the national media is caught off guard.
At various times in my adult life, I've made a habit of getting out into the country. of traveling the back roads and visiting the forgotten suburbs, and the inner cities, and everywhere I could to see what was really happening. In 2004 I drove across the country over six weeks, coast to coast, almost entirely on two-lane back roads and small highways, to see what I could see, and feel what I could feel, camping at state parks and private campgrounds, and staying with guests. In 2008 I did much the same, except going east.
These trips, and others like them, were highly revealing. I am almost never surprised by what happens on election day. I remember the moment in 2004 when I knew Kerry would lose. I wanted him to win so badly, but after detouring through central Ohio, somehow I was given a vision by happenstance that made a huge impression on me. Holmes County, Ohio told me Bush was going to win. But I didn't realize at the time. That whole trip in 2004 ended up in personal disaster from refusing to realize the truth of what was being presented to me, so the personal mirrored the political. That's very typical of me.
In 2008, going back through Ohio, up along the river this time (and going right past J's house as it happened), I could tell Obama was going to win big, as he did. At the time I was very happy about that.
In 2012, after going to Burning Man, fittingly I spent the entire election in California, traveling the state. I spent election night in Fresno during a long stay there visiting a friend. On election night the bicycle my father had given me to go to the aforementioned desert festival was stolen off my car in the well-lit parking lot of the Holiday Inn. By then I had ceased to care who really won the election. As I had told a super-leftist friend in Oakland, "I have no problem with Romney losing."
Four years ago we didn't much. We had just moved to Arizona and were holed up in our beautiful hilltop retreat in Fountain Hills. We were refugees from Portland, a city we gladly left behind. We didn't need to travel. Being in Fortress Arizona felt perfect. My most vivid memory is trying to get the coals lit in the Weber grill on our patio beside the porch. It was just past six o'clock and the light was dark. I was pulling up the early returns from the Drudge Report (a site I no longer use). Drudge was useful back then. He would post all the states in bold. The coals were going but they seemed like they were dying. I kept going back to help them, and the fire was burning my face. Hillary was way ahead in Ohio in early returns. The heat on my face felt like the fires of hell. Within three hours, Trump had blown out Hillary in Ohio in a way that no one expected, except me and the Ohioans I had come to know, despite that momentary lack of faith by the grill.
This year it is still a novelty to be in Fortress Arizona, but we ventured out on this birthday trip, to check out the state and what the "signs" are saying about this noble state, where I still feel like a guest, as we were at the ranch, and where I cast my vote with great appreciation of being able to live here for a while.
So far the most vivid moment from this election season occurred on our first night at the Guevavi Ranch. We took up our host's suggestion for the best restaurant in Nogales, a place called Tito's that serves Italian food. He told us the special directions to find it, and to look for the obscure sign on the wall, to find the parking lot.
We got there a little after dark. It was a lively place with a patio with lights. We asked for an outdoor table. As we stood waiting at the door, we had to make room for a party filing out. It was a large party of multiple children of various ages, intermixed with adults---multiple families. Like the staff at the restaurant, they were all manifestly Mexican in ethnicity. There were probably twenty people in all who came past us single file. Over half of them were wearing t-shirts of various colors, pink, blue, and black, saying "Latinos for Trump" and "Women for Trump."
Prediction: Trump easily clears 330 Electoral Votes. I am going to go further and predict he wins north of 350.
Shocker: Trump wins Oregon.
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