September 1, 2008

I got up at 5:00 am this morning. It takes me a bit longer than it should to get out of the house – just like I pack a little more than I should when traveling – and I had a train to catch. I was going to Chicago and then, after a short layover, onward to New York City.

My job was to get the Southwest Chief at 7:45, which meant that my checked baggage had to be at Union Station in Kansas City by 7:00 am. Well, thanks to Jan, we made it with no problem. Of course, we had to check with CNN first to see how Gustav was doing. Things did not look good.

It is Labor Day – a day that has come to mean many things in my life. Most notably, it is the day of the huge West Indian Day parade on Eastern Parkway back in Brooklyn, New York – the culmination of weeks of celebrations around independence and national pride. For people like me, the day is always burdened with a political responsibility – either I am marching with a candidate and/or an entourage or I am the candidate (only once so far.) As much as tourists flock to see the parade for the music and splendor, the politicians and their appendages are a critical part of what makes the parade a “must see’ event.

Last year, I was part of a rogue float sponsored by the Caribbean-American Weekly that hoisted a huge picture of Barack Obama with Calypso star The Mighty Sparrow and other community leaders. (The paper had already endorsed Obama.) Response to the float politely appreciative during that long, hot day. Many people, particularly Caribbean women, were enthusiastic about Hillary Clinton. We were definitely “on the edge,” politically.

Well, I am missing this year’s parade, but I am sure the reaction is quite different – if there’s another float! And next Saturday I will march with working people in New York City to celebrate the now-deferred Labor Day.

Union Station in Kansas City is crowded with those ending their holiday weekends. Singles, couples and entire families are lined up to get on the train. I am thankful that I have reserved slightly upgraded accommodations so I don’t have to compete directly with all of these tired but still energetic folks.

The ride to Chicago is relatively uneventful. I work to catch up on this blog while trying to take in some scenery. I’ve never traveled this way on the ground before and it is definitely interesting and picturesque at places. There are always interesting people to meet. One couple across from me has been traveling on the train to Columbus, Ohio. The husband likes to play harmonica. So, you're on a train going through the midwest to the sounds of a harmonica ...

There is an African American woman traveling in the same car. She is relocating from L.A. to her original home, Chicago, with the funeral of her father serving as the catalyst. She’s been on this train a few days. Her name is “Nubia,” taken on in recent years as she discovered herself and her heritage while living an L.A. life. She is 30 years old. Nubia Gibson has alot to say, and it’s sometimes hard to follow her but I love her voice and the way her thoughts just keep flowing forward.

She is happy that Barack Obama is the Democratic nominee and she thinks her family is, too. Her two sisters, her mother and her late father all discussed politics with different twists. Nubia is not pro-choice – she supports adoption – but that is only one part of the Democratic platform and she will not hold it against Obama.

When I ask Nubia about her reaction to John McCain’s selection of Sarah Palin as his Vice Presidential running mate, her reaction is subdued. She likes Palin’s stance on abortion, but she considers guns to the true killers of kids in her community … and Palin is too pro-gun for her.

Nubia points out the fact that her father died of liver cancer mostly because he kept his diagnosis to himself for too many years – just long enough for it to be too late to help him through any sort of health remedies. She bemoans the fact that education has not empowered more people to take control of their health -- that education has not given people the confidence level to step forward and say "I think I need some help." She herself has been involved with nursing and has studied and practices holistic medicine.

Hope seems good to Nubia. She believes that Obama provides that hope for many Americans who need it and that will be a good thing.

I keep checking the internet to see how Gustav is doing. It seems that New Orleans was spared the most direct hit, but there is still potential for flooding. The evacuation appears to have been very effective -- and that is certainly an improvement. Whoa! Interesting! Palin’s 17 year-old daughter is pregnant – and John McCain knew about it before selecting the Governor. Really gutsy! I want those guys to LOSE and LOSE BADLY, but I don’t want the Palin family destroyed in the process. This may prove to be much more than they bargained for.

We arrive in Chicago. I really want to visit the Obama headquarters and have a serious talk with some people about some obvious but possibly not so obvious things that must happen between now and election day. That would take some time and be focused on a pre-set appointment. That has fallen through and I only have a few hours. Most importantly, I’ve only been to Chicago twice before in my life and for very short periods of time – a bus layover in 1977 and an airport pass-through on the way to an Owens family reunion in Rockford, Illinois. This particular break will give me more time to work with. I put my bags in a locker and catch a cab to the Navy Pier – everyone says to go there. The Pier is a hyped up tourist paradise filled with food, drinks and activities – even a Ferris wheel.

I choose to take a 60-minute sail on a four-masted ship into the harbor area to get a real view of the Chicago skyline. It’s a nice experience. I then call my mother, who was a student at the University of Chicago in the late 1940s, to tell her where I am (she didn’t quite get my itinerary when I first told her). It was here at Chicago that my mother developed her commitment to teaching the humanities with a unified analytical approach. From here, Mom went to Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia, to join one other white faculty member.

She’s thrilled to hear from me. Based upon our conversation, I take a cab over to the Hyde Park area to look at some of the University’s buildings. Mom always talked about that gothic look she remembers. If I did my tour right, I only found two buildings that really qualify and they looked like they were part of the original university.

My wife calls and tells me that the rumor is out that Palin’s most recent child, who has Down’s Syndrome, is really the child of the allegedly pregnant daughter. We each find it hard to believe that someone would be so “Desperate Housewives” on a matter like this – and we find it hard to believe that the child of a teenage would be afflicted with Down’s Syndrome, though it is not impossible. This situation is getting crazy.

So far, both of my Chicago cab drivers have been African immigrants, Abdul and Ahmed. We talk about politics and the potential meaning of an Obama presidency. It is a big deal around the world, according to both of them.

Back at Chicago’s Union Station, I retrieve my bags and head to the gate for the Lake Shore Limited heading to New York City. This is the first time I have utilized a “sleeper” and it should be interesting.

It’s time to get home.