Tourist With a Typewriter

Oh, Uncle Adrian, I’m in the reservation of my mind.

Tag: Politics

My First Gun

Looking for safe ground in the middle of the gun debate

Published in C-VILLE 7/16/13

opener_rifle-660x335

The decision to buy a gun came suddenly. I was gulping down coffee before work and reading about the latest shooting, when my right to bear arms overwhelmed me. I ran out into the Virginia sunshine, jumped in my Prius, and headed to Walmart. Read the rest of this entry »

The Year Obama Broke

or, How I learned to keep worrying and love campaign journalism

Reflections on political journalism. Published in C-VILLE 01/01/2008.

Last February I covered the state Democrats’ Jefferson-Jackson Dinner featuring guest speaker Barack Obama. Seven days earlier, Obama had announced that he would run for president, answering a steady whisper that had turned by then into a dull roar. It seemed insane for him to run—way too early—and yet he was. The joy his announcement brought to many people was enough to make me think that maybe, just maybe, politics was worth caring about. Read the rest of this entry »

Obama, Where Art Thou?

My coverage of the 2007 Jefferson-Jackson dinner in Richmond, VA, where Obama, who had just announced that he would run for president ten days before, was the guest speaker. This was back when he was seen as a total longshot, before he even had secret service guarding him.

The Virginia Democrats want it bad. Their breathing is becoming heavy and unseemly tendrils of drool are stretching down towards their chests. They are hungry. The Commonwealth, by all rights, should be theirs. Virginia is finally offering herself up to them, and the state donkeys are in heat. Illinois Senator Barack Obama just might be their man, in all his sorta-black, sorta-liberal, Alfred E. Newguy, Don’t-Worry-Let’s-Hope, meet-you-in-the-middle, shining glory. Sweet Virginia, won’t you turn your Red state Blue? Read the rest of the story.

Winning a Losing Campaign

Ghosts of elections past: Dennis Kucinich visiting Charlottesville in 2008.

Dennis Kucinich is a kook, yes, but he’s a kook on a mission, rocketing out of the small conference room where he’s been waiting, head cocked to one side with a look of urgency on his face and a sense of nervous purpose in his stride, through the door and down the hall, where he hits the podium and turns to the crowd with a big grin. Some 500 people are here to listen to a presidential candidate who smart money says has no chance of being nominated. And as he grins, as his smile spreads beneath beady black eyes, he doesn’t seem to be even remotely concerned. Read the rest of the story.

%d bloggers like this: