And the rest of the field (2)

Got to finish up. 

There were, famously, nineteen candidates, each of them given five minutes. Period. When five minutes were up, music played softly, then louder, then loudest. End of speech.

Think of these pictures as vacation postcards vacation--DoubleTree Inn, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, a big place filled to the brim. Many of the attendees carried in signs and posters. Cory Booker's people--there were a ton of them--had posters with lights on 'em. When he came up to the rostrum, the place was full of flashing billboards.

I didn't know what to make of this candidate, a captivating presence, which is, I suppose, a "Me Too"-era way of saying a very good-looking female. She was selling love as the answer to all of our problems, which is, of course, a great idea and much in demand, given the schoolyard bully in the White House. I mean, sure, love is the answer, right? But who's going to fix the bridges? If the Gov of Love has a plan, she's waiting to announce it.

Must not lie. How can I say this delicately?--because I didn't say it about the men. . .There were no shortage of good-looking candidates, some of them female (does that pass muster?). Yesterday I put up a New York congressperson (right word?) Gillibrand, then, just now, the Gov of Love, and now a comely Hawaiian named with the memorable first name of Tulsi. 

Let me try to get out of trouble by featuring a couple of males. Eric Swalwell, who was happy to let the crowd know he was born in Iowa, which would have been close to legal tender in that convention center if his parents hadn't left the southwest corner of the state for greener California pastures. 

Senator Michael Bennett, from Colorado (there are two Coloradans) may well be a great guy, bright, a strong leader--all of that; but I'd say he may well be the candidate most likely not to make the next cut. Well, let me qualify that--male candidate. But the entire world was wrong about Trump last time around, so don't bury him or anyone else quite yet.

Then there's another Rocky Mountain entry--this one the Governor of Montana, who had me wondering how good he could be, having won his last election with ease while Trump took the state overwhelmingly. A lot of Montana folk had to split tickets.

Then again, some candidates need no introduction.

Lots of folks are astounded how "Pocahontas" is rallying. No candidate has been so derided by Mr. Marmalade than she has, but she's moving up dramatically by talking specifics.

This isn't vintage Kamala. I came home with a Kamala t-shirt, not because I think she's the best candidate (I'm nowhere near a judgment on that one), but because she laughs well. This isn't a good picture--I'd have caught her more wholesomely if you'd see one of her hearty smiles. She can light the place up.

Another governor, Gov. Inslee, of Washington, is putting climate change at the pole position in his race. More power to him. 

And then there's the guy with the totally unprounceable name, the least likely to succeed who is, at this moment, succeeding beyond anyone's expectations despite the fact that he's the only openly gay candidate in the bunch and the least politically experienced as the mayor of a lowly Midwestern city (with a great university). It's amazing, really, that I don't even have to tell you his name. Already, this early in the race, he's that well known, a phenomenon. 

He's a little man who's a war vet. He's gay, but utters religious truth with an unmistakable authenticity. Not only that, he plays a mean blues keyboard, did so at a picnic his followers set up a couple blocks south of the DoubleTree.

Lots of talent, lots of good talk. Nineteen candidates for the office of President of these United States, each of them given five minutes (no more!) to shivver the timbers. And they did, all of them.

No matter. The highlight of the Iowa Democratic Hall of Fame Dinner was the delegation from Sioux County, praised and honored for doing what no one believed they could, building a local Democratic party in a county where not long ago, people said, the local Democrats were so few and far between they met in a phone booth. No more.