Michelle Obama

One of the best things about California elections is that big-name politicians inevitably come to Los Angeles to stump for their favorite candidates and causes. Former President Bill Clinton came to UCLA three weeks ago to support gubernatorial candidate Jerry Brown. President Obama appeared at USC the following week. Though I saw Obama back in April, I was too busy to see him and Clinton this time around. I did, however, make a point of getting a ticket to see Michelle Obama and vice president Joe Biden’s wife Jill earlier this week when they campaigned for Senator Barbara Boxer’s reelection.

The event was held at the historic Wilshire Ebell Theatre, not far from our house. Doors opened at 5PM, so I got there fifteen minutes early. The line (mostly women) was already around the block. It was an interesting group: young and old alike from all ethnic backgrounds. The woman standing next to me was a conspiracy theorist who, for much of our wait, described in great detail why she believes the Bush administration staged the 9/11 attacks. I just stood there and smiled.

Then there was the woman behind me who kept saying how excited she was to be there. I finally bit and engaged her in conversation.

“I’m excited, too,” I said. “I’ve seen the President before, but never the First Lady. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.”

She then told me she had seen Condoleezza Rice speak the night before at the Saban theater, located in the heavily Democratic Beverly Hills area. “I was surprised there weren’t more people there,” she commented.

“Well, it was the westside,” I pointed out.

“Oh, yes!” she laughed. “Well, it was a good event anyway. Condoleezza told us about her childhood and was just fascinating, until she started talking about ‘weapons of mass destruction’ . . .”

“And then you started to roll your eyes,” I guessed.

“Exactly!”

While we were on line, several people with clipboards came around to check us in and give us our wristbands. There was a great deal of flurry about who got which color wristband. We decided the colors corresponded to the amount of money each person paid to attend. The conspiracist, who, like me, was given a blue band, insisted on a green wristband so she could sit with her friend. They apparently thought the green seats would be closer to the action. I didn’t care where I sat just as long as I got a seat. (I stood for four hours when I saw the President in August.)

It was every woman for herself when we got to security. And thank goodness, too, because my blue wristband entitled me to a 7th-row seat! I have no idea where the green wristbands ended-up.

I sat between a young volunteer from San Diego, who was working on the Boxer campaign, and a woman my age, who took notes throughout Michelle’s speech. At 6:30PM, the president of the Ebell of Los Angeles, a women’s philanthropic organization, gave a brief history of the theater. She was followed by the head of the local chapter of Organizing for America, Obama’s grassroots campaign group. It dawned on me then that this was more a recruitment event than it was a rally in support of Barbara Boxer.

Rhythmn and blues artist Kenny “Babyface” Edmonds was next. I don’t know him, but the audience went wild, practically swooning at the sight of him. He sang a couple of songs and then (finally!) Dr. Jill Biden emerged, looking beautiful and energetic despite what must have been a very long day. She introduced her “good friend” Barbara Boxer, who enthusiastically spoke a while, before turning the stage over to the person we were all obviously there to see: Michelle Obama.

The First Lady is quite an imposing figure—extremely tall, athletic and confident. (Boxer, who is so short she famously stands on a box when she speaks, looked almost like a child next to her.) Michelle started her speech rather deliberately, talking about her family and calling herself “Mom-in-Chief.” She then spoke about the plight of other families in the country and how her husband is working to improve the state of the economy. The more she spoke, the more passionate she became, till the theater took on the air of a revival meeting. Individual audience members yelled out their approval. I’ve attended many political events in my time, but never one like this. Michelle Obama was, quite simply, amazing. In the end, the three women—Michelle, Jill and Barbara—embraced as the audience roared. I’m guessing lots of new volunteer campaigners were recruited by the time we left the theater.

Walking to my car, I suddenly spotted three SUVs, flashing lights and zipping across Wilshire Blvd.

“There she goes!” I yelled to a crowd of strangers standing on the corner.

We spontaneously burst into applause and waved good-bye.

Obama in L.A.

A couple weeks ago, I got an email announcing that president Obama would be keynoting a fundraiser on April 19 (yesterday) for senator Barbara Boxer, who is running for reelection this year. The event was taking place at the California Science Center just south of downtown L.A.

Now, I’d seen Obama speak before at the 2005 American Library Association conference in Chicago, a year after his galvanizing speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. More than a few of my colleagues predicted then that he’d run for president in 2008.

But I, of course, hadn’t seen him speak yet as president. So I immediately bought a ticket. Tim was working, so I was on my own.

On Sunday, I got another email detailing event logistics. I was to enter the parking lot at 39th and Figueroa and then follow the crowds to the Science Center. Protesters were already demonstrating by the time I got there, but I was so intent on following the directions that I didn’t pay any attention to their shenanigans. When I emerged from the parking lot, hundreds of people were already queued up. The email had suggested “business or business casual” as appropriate attire.

“Boy, if nothing else, Democrats certainly are a handsome lot,” I thought to myself as I admired men in their pinstripe suits and several women in what looked like cocktail dresses. Obviously many of them had paid the $17,000-a-plate cost for eating dinner with the president that evening--a price tag far too rich for me, so I was way underdressed.

Although people seemed perfectly happy to wait on line, there was lots of confusion over exactly which line we should be waiting in. The man directly behind me asked if this was the V.I.P. line. Wondering if I was considered a V.I.P., I told him how much I paid for my ticket. He then showed me his, which had cost ten times more than mine. He was far more a V.I.P. than I was! I told him I’d save his place in line if he wanted to go ask someone. Turns out, we all--except former governor Gray Davis, whom we saw glad-handing folks as he bypassed everyone on his way to the head of the line--had to stand on line according to the first initial of our last names. A-L to the left and M-Z to the right. Mr. V.I.P. pointed out basketball great Elgin Baylor and his family standing toward the end of the A-L line.

After about 45 minutes, we finally approached the first rung of security. Names checked-off, we were then directed to tables where we showed our “valid government-issued I.D.s” and got our hands stamped. We then proceeded through metal detectors as our belongings were inspected and cleared. Next stop: up the stairs to the Wallis Annenberg building, where the event was being held. V.I.P.s went to the right, while the rest of us veered left. I had assumed we would be in some sort of auditorium where we’d be seated the entire time. But no. Although V.I.P.s got to sit at tables on folding chairs, the majority of us had to stand. By the time the event finally got underway, several fancy-dressed women had removed their beautiful high-heeled shoes. I may have been underdressed, but at least I was comfortable!

The venue was odd: an open hangar-like area with a small, shallow pool in the middle. The podium, which I couldn’t see at first through all the V.I.P.s, was projected onto a medium-sized screen at the front of the hall. To the right was the podium, not too far from where I stood. People were noshing on hors d’oeuvre (meatball sliders--gag!) and drinking wine (open bar), so I quickly planted myself within clear view of the microphones. After a few minutes, a man came out to address the crowd. First up: vocalist India Arie, whose voice was lovely, but inaudible. Between the horrible acoustics and people yelling, it was impossible to hear anything.

Democratic party chair Tim Kaine then introduced Barbara Boxer and the excitement really began. We cheered everything she said--even if we couldn’t hear!--but it was no secret why we were all there. Within minutes, Boxer stopped talking and suddenly Obama appeared. The crowd went wild as I held back my tears. It was wonderful just being in the room with him.

The acoustics continued to be bad, plus there was an annoying heckler who kept yelling about repealing “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” Still, we were all thrilled to be there in Obama's presence and encouraged him with our cheers. I clapped loudest when he talked about education and healthcare. (Click here for a transcript of his entire speech). I was especially pleased when he briefly mentioned the importance of science, so wrongfully maligned during the dark ages of the Bush administration.

I moved toward the door as soon as Obama started to wrap-up. Despite sore feet (“If I would have known I was going to have to stand for four hours, I would have worn comfortable shoes,” one man commented), everyone was jubilant.

“I’m happy we came,” a woman cheerfully said to her husband, “even if we couldn’t hear everything he said!”

Other people were looking forward to dinner with the president in a building nearby.

“See you there!” two lucky men yelled as they parted ways.

I zoomed to the parking lot, hoping to beat traffic.