his sign said "moore lies"

we drank three pitchers of cheap watery beer in traditions and re-realized that there was this entire other culture that still existed around us, close to us, that we had forgotten about almost entirely. we saw it there, in the sticky tabled bar, with two groups of frat boys playing beer pong on either side of us and clusters of guys sitting facing the mirrored walls to watch the football game.
michael moore was coming, we wondered if anyone would be sober. we danced to some bad orange county emo pop rock and then everyone came down there and joined us and we walked to mccarthy quad together.
it was like a music festival- there were people on the parking decks, people with fifths of vodka, people with blankets, people with claims on their patch of grass. we got there before the sun set and speculated about the opposition- the bush/cheney folks, sequestered to the "free speech zone," an oxymoron we figured was wasted on them. ryan quinn hines had to keep going to the bathroom and andy i went with him, about half and hour before Moore was supposed to come on.

"lets walk by the repubs"

i was curious. i had seen them all before- that one time freshman year when i went to the row. i had seen the tanning bedded midsections and the bud light tummies. i had seen the alabama in them, and it wasnt sweet or nostalgic. it reminded me why i needed to get out of there in the first place- in alabama, unlike in LA last night as we gathered to see moore speak, i and the equivalent of my friends were the minority. we were the ones being pushed away, the quiet little voice of dissent behind the fence.

we stood for a minute and looked at them. all of the TV crews were right in front of their little pin, egging them on, shining the bright light in their faces. i never remember being interviewed at any protest i went to, or at any counter-movement to some republican speaker. why were they getting so much attention? we outnumbered them by the thousands, we were finally the majority. put that on the front page.

and there, right in front of me covered in bush/cheney stickers and holding up a giant sign, was the guy i had talked to on trousdale that day as i was handing out proposition information. he had been on a bike and told me that we wasnt voting. i said if you dont vote you have no voice. he said he had never needed one before, he said had never complained and he would never complain. i said i hope he always had all the health care he needed. i said i hope he never got his girlfriend pregnant and had to hold her hand as they walked into an alley where a coat hanger waited for her. he said, so if i dont vote i can never talk about abortion?

i said exactly. thats exactly what it means.

and there he was, yelling "its you! its you!"

i walked up to him, andy was behind me. "you lied to me. you fucking lied to me" and i pointed my finger in his face because i didnt know what else to do, and i didnt want to cry so i acted strong and mean and angry.

"hey dont use that language! put your finger away! you were wearing that kerry sticker! i knew we would argue about it-"

"but i said i would respect you more if you voted for bush than if you just didnt vote at all. you lied to me..."

and he started saying something but the whole thing looked so unreal. the lights, the people bobbing up and down "four more years!" like it was a cheerleaders chant,or the song that the sorority girls sing the doorways of their house when they are trying to recruit new pledges. i went to the bathroom and cried a little bit.

today in response to my critique of his story, a guy in my class wrote on his blog, "its written from a white heterosexual males perspective and thats the way its going to stay."

its hard for me to know what to say back. i already knew that (you know who you are). and it made me sad, and i wanted to let you know how i felt. you didnt need to tell me that it wasnt going to change. i couldve told you that.

anyone could tell you that. but if you keep on keeping on that way, you'll never be able to see what else is changing.

last night, a group of people started booing. they were right beside us, right beside the stage. and for a minute we all looked around at each other and the crowd deflated and sighed, and then someone started clapping. and we werent sure if it would work but before we knew it, everyone was clapping, everyone was standing up and by time our cheers subsided they had moved on.

for right now, thats enough for me.