Oh, All Right...
It was the demon champagne talking and a little bit of depression. I mean, everyone else in the country is celebrating big time, and I can only celebrate moderately big-time, hence the whining. Not good to make assumptions about people based on stupid stuff, and it's probably incorrect anyway, especially if you're trying to widen your base.

At least I didn't start calling old boyfriends.

And I shouldn't blame anyone but myself for bad voter IDs. I mean, I could have volunteered earlier and canvassed better myself and weeded out the vacant lots and tear-downs.

Another thing I thought of that can be a serious problem, however -- mismatch between phone lists and walk lists.

Just about the final thing you do is call your target voters one last time, and remind them where to vote and when the polls close. If the phone number doesn't match the address, you can easily be telling them the wrong polling place.

Someplace in an ID phone script must always be a phrase like, "Do you still live at 100 Anywhere Street?" When you move you can take your phone number with you, friends. This is important enough that there should probably be a check box on the data sheet indicating that a caller has asked.

And I can't tell you the number of times I thought I was visiting the house of John Smith and a nice sign on the mailbox said "The Millers". I always noted it on my walk sheet (and asked the question, "Does John Smith still live here?" if I could), but have no idea how that information was handled back at the campaign office.

So, that's it from here. You've been great. Seals and Duckworth should have won, and it was a pleasure volunteering for such strong candidates.

Back to art momentarily. Trying to get stuff together today and tomorrow for the Small Print Show at Chicago Printmakers Collaborative (and also numerous holiday sales, too). Was so beautiful yesterday I sat outside and did a few drawings, for the first time in months.

Enough.
- posted by Cynthia @ 1:36 PM | | | Link |