I got a call at home in Portland Monday morning, and the number on my Caller ID started with 603, which is the area code for New Hampshire, that quirky New England state where I lived more than 20 years ago. I pounced on the call, imagining some long-lost friend on the other end – the ideal distraction from actually working.
Me: (excitedly): Hi!
Stern Female Voice: Hello. I'm calling from the Clinton campaign. Will you be voting for Hillary Clinton tomorrow?
Barack Obama styles himself as a post-baby boomer leader and the media is lapping that up. His image as an agent of change hinges on the assertion that he is not part of the politics of the past, which he sees as a intra-generational scrimmage that's been destructive to the country. As he wrote in his book the Audacity of Hope:
In the back and forth between [Bill] Clinton and [Newt] Gingrich, and in the elections of 2000 and 2004, I sometimes felt as if I were watching the psychodrama of the baby boom generation – a tale rooted in old grudges and revenge plots hatched on a handful of college campuses long ago – played out on the national stage.
Quick housekeeping note. Crosscut is looking for a half-time deputy editor. We've had the job posted on Craigslist for a couple of weeks, but it might have escaped your attention during the holidays. Here's a partial description:
Ah, carefree condo living.
I could tell you about the condominium building that allows two dogs per unit, a rule neatly circumvented by a guy who walks his four pit bulls one pair at a time, denying that he's got a pack of the critters in his 600-square-foot studio. Or the woman who hangs her lingerie to dry on her balcony – which happens to be the one located smack over the building's front door. For every proud owner of one of Portland or Seattle's zillion new condos, there's one with a horror story.
Since Iowa, everyone's a change agent, but New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg is discussing the need for a new tone in presidential politics. Of course, that's easy for him to say. He's got the money to be taken seriously and the inspiration of Robert Fulghum-style simplicity.
From site of one of the earliest white settlements to crossroads of the metro area, the once-humble Seattle suburb is looking back on more than a century of history. That history includes a disappearing river and an airplane that never flew.