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Santa Fe, N.M. Down To Earth with the Other "President" Every now and then I have this haunting question which runs something like this: "Could I, thefamily and our home stand the test of having the President of the United States come over forsome reason, maybe dinner or an overnight?" This is not about fancy enough; it is more about the ability to stand up tall, especially with the solid "country" feel of the place, the owner-builder down-to-earthiness of it all. Well, I got a chance to sort of live out that fantasy right before Halloween last year. The election dynamics had been strong around here; kind of an electricity in the air. I was mentally in the triad mode of Gore, Bush and Nader. But then the phone rang one night. "Hello, this is Jeffrey Peters calling. How are you? Cousin Sherret recommended that I contact you, as we are traveling with the mayor of Chihuahua and his family now and intend to visit Santa Fe next week" He sounded very "presidential" somehow; something about the formal clarity of language, the self-assured demeanor and mature tone quality of the voice, the friendly assuredness and sense of direction. I knew he was a presidential candidate, he and his wife CiCi having co- founded the "We The People" Party and had gained some notability by staging the "Boston TV Party" not long ago. I knew CiCi is a distant cousin and I had received some political e-mail from them, telling us about their travels. etc. I was thinking, before, "Well, I'll bet they're kinda nuts. Better not get too close." I was not prepared for this "4th party " event. I thought about it and called them back to invite them to park their campaign RV here on the ranch and asked if he wanted me to call a few people and have a pot luck. " That is very kind of you. We will accept your offer," he responded. I didn't know what to expect, but we fit in some cleaning and some cooking in prep for this and called some people. So my son, Dylan, and I headed out to meet them at the gas station. And there it was: the very impressive quintessential presidential RV with patriotic and formal lettering and graphics, complete with stars and stripes. I brought my body out of the truck, anticipatory.The man was tall, Lincolnesque, with a very presidential suit ;blue formal coat with nice double rows of presidential brass buttons, pin stripe shirt and the most presidential brown shoes I can remember and suspenders with golden eagles and shields. I probably stared at the shoes too long (kind of like I did when I first went to the Santa Fe Military Museum and became transfixed by the extraordinary polish on the shoes of the curator at the time.) Everything was looking less "country" all the time. I explained that I would go in front and cut trees and branches, etc. to clear the way for the RV (looking for signs of weakness or wanting to "bail out"). I sort of apologized that the river was running high and might cause problems during the "ford". They looked puzzled, but seemed game, so off we went.I felt a little like Humphrey Bogart on those last grueling stages of the river getting smaller and the African Queen feeling too big. I started to feel better as CiCi helped clear the branches and Jeffrey seemed a capable "Captain". Anyway, we pulled it off; there was enough food, the house shined up just barely enough (for us anyway). We got a real speech , which included the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States, and talked freely about many issues including non-political matters. I witnessed as they drafted a formal coalition proposal document and sent it off to "Ralph", on my own Fax machine! It's like I am at the constitutional convention with Thomas Jefferson and Paul Revere and Dolly Madison or something! I'm hearing all sorts of inside stories. I am thinking about his advice to vote intelligently with my conscience, that "Ralph" has been the" first American" for 35 years. Vote for him if he is willing to start and lead a coalition of third parties. The next day I encouraged Jeffrey to drive the crawler tractor (for what I call "Bulldozer Therapy"). CiCi said ," That is very unlike him to do that." We untangle the donkey. We take photographs. We hug goodbye. I watch with bated breath as the rig climbs the steepest hill then it drones out of sight. A few days later I got a phone message from CiCi. They are preparing to give a speech on the plaza (sort of taking the place vacated by some no- show politician) and would I like to come on down and play music for them and help "clean up the plaza of litter". "It is really messy down here," she said. I hinted that with New Mexico's history of colonization and neo-colonial behavior that gesture might not be taken too well, but she sweetly insisted it was all right; that they do this in many of the towns they visit. I am still skeptical, but impressed by their "drive". . On the morning of the election, which we now know was historical (read hysterical) due to the closeness of the vote, etc, I receive an e mail from Jeffrey. He writes, "On November 7, 2000 remember these important facts: one vote gave us English instead of German as our national language; one vote gave Adolf Hitler control of the Nazi Party; and one vote gave Rutherford B. Hayes the Presidency. Your vote matters; your vote can be decisive. Don't let anything distract you from your power to vote-it's your most important voice! Let's reduce the power of big corporations, and return the power to the people- We The People. Only then will we once again have a government of, by , and for the people. So it all comes down to these two words; "JUST VOTE!" So, does that count?
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