I Am a Walking Billboard

Doing My Bit to Save America

I wanted to do something in support of Kamala Harris and Tim Walz, but I’m not one to knock on doors and engage with strangers. I know I am not a good collaborator, therefore, I had to find a way to help that was something I could do by myself. I decided that since I walk everyday anyway, I could buy some shirts supporting Kamala Harris and become a walking billboard for the cause. So, that’s what I did.

The last time I was this highly motivated for a Presidential candidate was in 2008. I thought Barack Obama may have been a bit inexperienced to be running for President, but once he won the nomination, I was all in. It was going to be great to have a smart guy in the White House again after eight years of W. I really wanted Obama to win, but, given my general lack of interpersonal skills, I wasn’t sure what I could do to help.

Earlier that year, I had begun a regular walking program to satisfy a desire for a little more physical activity. I figured the best thing I could do for Obama’s candidacy, was to walk the neighborhoods wearing my Obama ‘08 shirt, to show middle aged white guys like me it was okay to vote for this erudite, sophisticated, intelligent black man. I knew the chances of me swaying anyone’s vote by wearing an Obama t-shirt were nil. However, it made me feel like a participant in the process. A very, very minor participant.

My Obama shirt was kind of like this one.

One day, I was out on the mean streets doing my Obama thing. I was crossing a major intersection here in town, when I heard someone holler from a car waiting at the light, “Go Obama!” I turned and gave him a big thumbs up as I walked by. Then I heard the guy say, in a much more subdued, almost matter of fact kind of voice, “I said ‘No Obama’.” Now, my instinct was to turn again, this time to flip him the bird. But, I didn’t do that. I turned and surprised myself by giving him another thumbs up. When I told this story afterward, I explained that I didn’t give the guy the finger because I felt as if I was actually representing Barack Obama and I did not want to reflect badly upon him. I said, “See? Wearing the Obama shirt makes me a better person.”

Another time, I was wearing my Obama shirt while walking through a nearby neighborhood. I came upon an older, baldheaded, big-stomached man who was holding a leash attached to a little yappy dog. (You know, I describe myself as a cat guy, but I like dogs, too. We do not have a dog at the moment, however, we have had some wonderful dogs over the years.)

Now, I should explain here that I do not like giving up my half of the public sidewalk. I’ll get over to the edge when someone approaches, but if people are coming toward me in a small group, or if someone is walking their dog, and they are taking up more than their allotted half of the sidewalk, I believe it is up to them to yield. I’ll cede my sidewalk half for a baby stroller, or an old person with a walker or a wheelchair or a cane, but most of the time, I exercise my inalienable pedestrian’s right to half of that sidewalk.

Anyway, this older, baldheaded, big-stomached man was holding the leash of his little yappy dog, and as I got closer, the dog started yapping at me and pulling on his leash. I could have stepped off the sidewalk and given them a wide berth, but, as mentioned, I am loathe to give up what is rightfully mine. As I passed, the little yappy dog started nipping at the bottom of my pant leg. I said to the older, baldheaded, big-stomached man something like, “Hey, control your damn dog!” I do not remember his exact words, but his response was something along the lines of “I don’t think he likes your shirt. Probably shouldn’t wear that around here.” It wasn’t worth getting into a big confrontation over, so I decided to continue my walk, but before I moved on, I did say to the older, baldheaded, big-stomached man, “I’ll wear whatever damn well please.” Or words to that effect. It is my belief that having “Obama ‘08” emblazened across my chest kept me from saying something really nasty.

So, here I am, all these years later, walking the neighborhoods in support of my chosen candidate again, only this time it is Vice President Kamala Harris. Interestingly, as of this writing, I have yet to encounter any negativity as the result of wearing a Kamala shirt on my walks. I always wear my large headphones, and it sometimes is hard to see the drivers of the cars whizzing by. I suppose it is possible people have gestured or hollered at me in an unfriendly manner, and I simply did not see or hear it.

All the reactions I have noticed, though, have been positive. However, the vast majority of folks that see me in my Kamala shirts simply ignore me. Which suits me just fine, being an introverted sort and all. I know they see me. That’s good enough.

Most often, when someone does acknowledge my shirt, it is usually a smile and a finger point directed at my chest. Sometimes, I get a thumbs up or a high five. Several times, I’ve had people say, “I love your shirt.”

Almost all of the responders have been women. Perhaps it is more meaningful to women to see a man publicly endorse a woman? Would it be correct to presume women feel less supported by men, generally? Or, do more women respond because men are less likely to show their feelings, unless it has to do with supporting their favorite sports teams, or showing off their big-ass pickup trucks?

I am surprised I haven’t gotten any negative responses from men. I thought we males are more hardwired to respond to stimuli that runs counter to our personal political views.

Well, okay, there was this one guy in a pickup that almost ran me over. I was walking on the sidewalk along a major thoroughfare in my town that has three lanes going in each direction with a median in between. I noticed a guy in a truck wanting to exit a side street to go north on the major street. I was walking south along the northbound lane, and I saw the pickup driver come to a stop to wait for a break in traffic, so that he could enter. He was watching the cars coming from his left and I was approaching from his right. I don’t think he ever looked my way. So, I was in the crosswalk as I passed in front of his vehicle, and he started to pull out. I was able to leap forward as he grazed my hip. I gave his hood a hard slap as he passed by and yelled “Asshole!” I know he heard me because his window was down. He just kept going, and that is what I did, too.

As I continued my walk, I wondered if the guy was trying to intimidate me because my shirt said, “Harris-Walz ‘24 Obviously”. I concluded that the guy was just an oblivious, shitty driver. I don’t believe he ever looked in my direction. So, although the possibility exists that the guy tried to run me over because of my politics, I think it is more likely that he just had his head up his ass. Come to think of it, I guess he had his head up his ass in either scenario.

But, besides that questionable incident, there hasn’t been any negativity at all. In a bit of profiling on my part, as I walk along I keep expecting to see guys in those big-ass pickup trucks flip me off or shake a fist in my direction, but there hasn’t been any of that. Who knows, maybe the drivers of those big-ass pickup trucks are all closeted liberals. Maybe they secretly are hoping for a Harris-Walz administration to save our uniquely American democracy from going straight to hell.

Yeah. That must be it.

CODA:

Election day is right around the corner. As a friendly reminder, this is what your ballot should look like. Don’t forget.

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