Barack in Philly

It was often said during the Presidential election campaign that rallies for Barack Obama were like Rock Concerts and, from my experience, that was exactly right.

It was mid-October, and with about 3-weeks of two long years of campaigning remaining, I arrived in Philadelphia after a Friday night MegaBus ride from New York City, just a few hours before the Democratic Presidential nominee was due to speak in the city.

I had only come for a weekend of tourism, a look at the Liberty Bell and a photo on the Rocky Balboa steps, but soon found out about the city's guest. When I arrived that evening, my hostel dorm was peppered with fliers announcing his visit; people's excitement was pretty palpable with the details of his morning rally in the Northern part of city kept rolling off people's lips with enthusiasm.

It would be wrong to claim Obama zealotry was universal and I'll avoid being cheesy about it. After an obligatory Philly Cheese-Steak, I visited a couple of bars trying to impress people with my exotic accent; the first guy I spoke to - apparently reasonable and sensible-sounding - spent fifteen minutes railing against Obama AND McCain for being "super-Socialists". Something about the bail out. He then complimented me on Thatcher. After eight years of Bush, and despite some bizarre things he had to say, he proved in my mind, that intelligent Republicans actually still exist. He didn't put me off Obama though.

Though I got to bed not too many hours after midnight, I got up so early I felt like I had never slept. Unaware of public transport, it took me an hour to cross from the relatively salubrious historic centre, into some of America's roughest neighbourhoods and arrive at the end of a long queue for the rally, half an hour before sunrise.

Somewhat belatedly, I realised it was not a wise area to travel through solo: on each corner were offers for drugs, sex and not-so-subtle attempts to lure me off the sidewalk for some kind of mugging. Half a dozen blocks from where the future President would speak, the queue for the Methadone service was already snaking round the corner, in the pre-dawn darkness, hours before its 8.30 opening.

I arrived in line at 6am-ish, but two and a half hours before Obama was due to attend, the line of people was blocks-long and swiftly growing. A group of peppy, preppy, BudLight inebriated college students behind me reflected the common sense of incredulity: "dude, I thought we got here early!".

Ahead of me was an energetic Jersey Mother who was proudly boasting about all the previous Presidential candidates she and her apparently long-suffering ten year old daughter had hob-knobbed with during previous campaigns (Bill, Kerry, Cuomo etc). Not ALL American liberals are hyperactive and annoying, a few are relatively normal and others in our queue looked as lethargic as I felt, but the energy was almost overwhelming for my fragile British tastes.

So we waited for an hour in the darkness as the clock moved toward Seven.

Soon, as nigth music could be heard - a Stevie Wonder recording blaring from the still unopened auditorium told us that "Superstition aint the way". As I say - it felt like we were about to see Metallica. It's not just the crowds that give the event a Rock 'n' Roll feel. There were T-Shirt sellers and other merchants selling a full range of all kinds of memorabilia (official and unofficial). There were Porta-loos . There was the speculation of which catch phrases he might come up with: like the anticipation for the possible "Otherside" and "Under The Bridge" before a Chilli Peppers concert, so we wondered if he would come up with the "Audacity of hope" or "Yes We Can" (incidentally, we would hear neither). More sinister, a sense of nervous anticipation about getting in to such an event. Clearly no one wanted to think about the possibility of Obama's assasination, but I can't help feeling the attitude reminded me a bit of all the people who wanted to see Pete Doherty a few years ago, before any untimely cult-creating death.

Tickets or payment weren't necessary, but contact details and cell numbers were taken diligently from those attending, so that as many as possible could be persuaded to join in the massive canvass of the neighbourhood, later on in the day. The long crowd was ultimately squeezed through a surprisingly simple security check, aided by a ban on bags.

Though I was far from the front of the queue, the large platform area meant that I was able to get relatively close to the left of the stage. In the square I bumped in to two Obama volunteer friends from University in London. One I half expected to see, the other a total surprise, showing I suppose, the great deal of excitement for the election, even from the UK.

People had traveled from far and wide and represented a range of demographic groupings, but still, the vast majority were black and were relatively local. Philadelphia has a large, poor black population and is overwhelmingly Democratic. The rest of the state had in previous recent elections tilted perilously close to Bushite Bonker-tude. The campaigning goal in Philly was therefore simply aimed at boosting turnout as much as possible so as to neutralize as many Sarah Palin-voting red knecks in the rest of state as possible. It worked: 76% of Philly ultimately opted for Obama on November 4th and Pennsylvania's crucial twenty-one electoral college votes went with them.

There were numerous warm-up acts for Obama. Pennsylvania Governor Rendell talked about previous nearer misses and electoral agonies. A local Irish-American Congressman - oozing corruption - stood up to join the fun. A large Baptist choir sung and a local preacher made a prayer (skillfully timed to coincide with the the magma-coloured sunrise) and spoke of the redemptive possibilities of "Jacob's Son" Barack Obama. The religious element was obvisously a contrast from godless British politics, but the undeniable fervour it induced in people was exciting to (almost) be a part of.
I couldn't help feeling a slight sense of irony, half an hour after the same crowd sang along to SW's refrain "when you believe in things you don't understand you suffer".

Then Obama arrived. I had a good view as the silver Jeeps of his motorcade swung in from the street and in to a large tarpaulin placed behind the stage. Then came a 10 minute high-anticipation wait as his Secret Service agents got to work scoping out the square. The Mall Parking lot - revealed in the rising sunlight - covered a massive area, Obama's lectern was surely visible to rooftops and windows a hundred metres in all directions. Vantage points of this kind were closed though and agents equipped with super-sized binoculars kept an earnest eye on them. Ominously, behind the stage was a stretcher, just in case. Like in the movies, the secret service were super-slick and dapper-dressed; unlike in the movies, they were not needed and Obama walked forward safely.

The next thing was delirium. Though there were dozens of people in front of me, he probably came within 10-15 meters of me. He was a bit taller than I expected and even skinnier, but looked as fit as anything. If you had not been aware of who the most famous man in the world was, you would have thought he was a 28-year old recent college graduate, all set to run a marathon.

So what did he actually say?

Well he kind of promised everything. Britons are more cynical and wouldn't have allowed Brown or Cameron to declare they could "change the world". However, the current (inept) and future (oleaginous) British PMs aren't Barack Obama and our cynicism is (IMO) a big part of the reason for what we are stuck with.

Obama went on to wheel out some of the usual platitudes with things like: "together", "hope", "progress" and stuck together with Ziegler-worthy three-part lists and negative-positives. Given the uncertain problems of the world and the realities of politics, a lack of specific solutions was sort of understandable I suppose, or at least, deserving the benefit of the doubt.

On the specifics, he did actually say some slightly concerning Protectionist things about "keeping jobs in America" and leaving Iraq-asap. Overall though, his speech was largely agreeable and he talked about affordable healthcare, support for the old and a realisation of the higher education "dream". Amen to all that (as the crowd responded).

Well intentioned, but deliverable? We'll see...

Wearing my new Obama T-Shirt, soon after, I walked through Philly and thought about some of these things. Looking perhaps uglier in full daylight, it did feel hard to imagine how four or eight years of BHO could fully solve the injustice of this corner of the city of 'brotherly love'. Nonetheless, the city was obviously right to view him as the most likely person to give it a helping hand. For me, personally, I felt for one of the first times in my life that a dream, even with flaws or even possibly without foundation, could be an intrinsically great thing in itself, simply for the joy in invoked in people: "bliss it was to be in that dawn alive".