I saw the predictable 4th District endorsement early this morning when I brought the Trib in. I only read it ten minutes ago at about 11:30 PM. The editors almost exceeded the limit of superlatives for Speech teacher Jill Lofald. The only thing they neglected to mention was her devotion to the top administrators of the District. Art Johnston was tarred with negativity. How ironic that the Trib’s inclination is to kill the messenger. Three words that I always used to describe Art were absent from the superlatives showered on Ms. Lofald not that she doesn’t have them herself. They are “integrity,” “honor” and “courage.” That’s something our western schools need now more than ever.
I resumed going door to door for a sustained period of time today. Hallelujah! I’m still gimping it but the pain has receded a bit perhaps because I did so little walking early in the week. That’s a shame as we will not see such marvelous weather again before November 7th. I also made a call to set up an appointment with a foot specialist just to stave off a possible recurrence of the pain.
My preoccupation with the campaign has come at some cost. It slipped my mind that I was scheduled to serve at Damiano Center’s Soup Kitchen this afternoon. They had a lot of folks in line and my absence put a lot of strain on the volunteer servers. I always sing there and I always sing going door to door. I didn’t sing anything today. I just grimly pressed on. I also checked my School District email for the first time in ages and found a lot of messages I had to reply to by beginning my message: “I’m very sorry but I’ve been a little preoccupied for the past couple weeks.” As our President might tweet, “Sad.”
Fourth Street at our intersection is still blocked off but the lights are on. They are permanantly set at green for the time being which means its impossible to escape onto 21st Avenue during rush hour. I took a picture of them as I headed home after door knocking:
I was amused today to find that someone had stolen my defaced lawn sign which called me a house husband. I wonder if it was the vandal who was aggravated at the possibility that I would get the house husband vote.
I hate it when someone steals a popular sign.
I am bushed. I’ll edit this tomorrow. Tomorrow is here. Its raining so I’ll attend to indoor things until it stops.
I was stopped in my tracks for an hour I spent talking with an African American woman about life in general and about how Blacks are treated in Duluth. She has some experience. She came to Duluth in 1957 and raised two sons here. Her’s is a fascinating story. Like the author Ralph Ellison she often feels invisible. Like so many other African Americans she feels expected to speak for all 30 million of them whether its Bill Cosby, Martin Luther King or Colin Kaepernick or or or or or you name them.
When I got home I found someone had anonymously mailed me one of my cards back from my door to door work. I smiled and shook my head reading the only thing written on it:
Charters! I wish this person had perused my blog. There are over 220 posts dealing with the Edison Schools alone. And why the anonymity? Too many Americans are afraid of their politicians.
