Yesterday, after a very spicy beer (it is brewed with Serrano chiles) I took a walk through Old Town Square. The lingering buzz and spice in my mouth, I started talking with the proprietor of this art store. I had no real questions for him, and could easily have just left without saying anything. But for some reason (alcohol, 97 degree heat, strange chile beer, finally getting it) I decided to strike up a conversation. I was channeling Dan, Robert, Phil James, Buffy and others who just seem able to start a conversation because they have to (organizers) and because they want to (kickass people). So we talked about this and that and the other.
Since there was a while before my meeting I went into another store. Walked up started talking with the owner. Looked at Navajo pottery. He is an anglo who grew up on a reservation. He'd owned an art store in Georgia for 17 years (had an Obie working for him. represent). I was out doing the work of local politics. He's a Republican, but he won't ever say that I wasn't polite and maybe he'll cross over on this election, who knows.
Today a man came to repair my stove. Same thing. We ended up talking about TABOR (tax payer's bill of rights, local issue) and growth, etc. It's great. I'm all of a sudden without fear. If someone is a jerk--it's blog fodder or a good story for later. So what do I have to lose.
I'm finally in the mind set you have to be to organize...where you seek conversation all the damn time. Everyone is a voter, not just those on the phones and at the doors.
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