The Porter Bureau

As we prepare to move to Maryland, we’ve been trying to spend as much time with family and friends as possible. So a few weeks ago we went camping in Goblin Valley down in central Utah with my brothers, sister and their familes. Those who saw the film Galaxy Quest will remember Goblin Valley’s sandstone boulders and oddly shaped spires from the “berillum sphere” planet. The good news is that the only green monsters we encountered were the cousins we took with us… who also tried to hit us with rocks. Ah, life imitating art.

As a kid, we went camping in southern Utah about twice or even three times a year. It was my father’s favorite place to camp, and though now I appreciate some of the phenomenal beauty of the place, I grew to really hate the area. In fact, when I organized this trip, my mom commented to my sister, “Porter wants to go to Goblin Valley? But he hates Goblin Valley.” And she was right to say so. I did hate the area (know as the San Raphael Swell). Imagine if every time your parents took you to see a movie, they always took you to see the exact same one. Even if it was the best movie ever made, you would quickly resent the fact that you never got to see anything else. What’s more, it would become clear that the only reason you were seeing a movie in the first place was because your parents wanted to see this particular movie–your enjoyment was an afterthought. So go to the desert I did, again and again and again, bounding along in my father’s suburban, trying to lose myself in a book and ignore the dust and heat.

But the truth is that when I think of growing up, I think of the Utah desert; I think about Goblin Valley, or hiking down the Escalante river. I don’t particularly care for that fact, but it is what it is. Those areas served as a backdrop to my childhood. And the only poems of mine that I think are worth a damn are attempts to capture some of my memories of that place.

As I prepared to move across the country, to a place as defined by its greenery and lushness as Utah is by its chalky red-rocks and desiccation, I knew that I had to take Byron to visit Goblin Valley. Later on, when he asks about how I grew up and what I did as a kid, I want to be able to do more than give him some amateur poetry. I want him to have been to those places and experience some of the same things I did. So, some 20 years since my last trip down there, into the car we went and off to Goblin Valley. And you know what? If you visit once every twenty years, it’s a pretty cool place.

Well, gotta go. I’m making Byron watch Star Wars, episode IV with me. I swear, he just needs to see it a few more times before he understands just how good a movie it is!

Barack Obama

Ok, old news, but at least it’s now official. What I think is truly amazing about the Democratic primary race this year was the way it ended. Or rather, the way it refused to end. I wonder what Sen. Clinton’s end-game is in all this. Early on I felt like the last thing she would ever want was the VPship. Who wants to sit that close to power and yet have none herself (especially if your last name is Clinton)? There is, however, one good thing that comes with being VP: a presumptive nomination for the next P, and that is something worth having. If Hillary is Obama’s VP and he wins, then she is a virtual lock for the party’s nomination in 2016. Except for the fact that she’d be 69 then (she’s 61 now). McCain, whose age is a major factor in this race, would be the oldest president elect at 71 were he to win. Does Sen. Clinton really think that she can defeat ageism and sexism at the same time? I doubt it.

However, were Obama to lose and Clinton were the VP candidate, then she could play the “I told you so” card and waltz into the nomination in 2012. McCain has committed (who knows if he’d follow through) to only serving a single term as president, so Clinton would really be the only “old guard” type in the race.

But what Clinton wants, I believe, is to not take the VP position, but only after Obama offers it to her (as several political pundits have asserted). In so doing, she’s not tied to Obama in anyway if he loses but would still be the presumptive nominee in 2012. The problem she faces, though, is if Obama wins then she’s locked out for eight years and she’ll have to contend with whoever is the VP for the nomination–a fight that she can’t be looking forward to given this year’s outcome.

What isn’t in doubt is that Hillary Clinton is refusing to go gently into the proverbial goodnight. She knows that she, until tonight, possessed a bully pulpit that she’s likely never to have again, at least not for eight more years. She is sending a strong message to the Democratic party that even though Obama has dethroned her, the “Clinton machine,” as it is called, is still a major power in the party and the party leadership needs to make sure that the Clinton’s keep their place at the head of the table. Her most audacious move was to force the Democratic rules committee to rule on the Florida and Michigan primaries. Her fans, as fans are wont to do, conveniently forgot that she promised not to campaign in Florida and Michigan and agreed beforehand that those states would lose their delegates if they moved their primaries. Fast forward to last week and Clinton is suddenly the champion of “every vote counts.” The move is such a transparent power play that birds crash into it regularly. The only reason to reverse herself so brazenly is to send a message to the DNC: don’t you dare look past me, because I can bring this house of cards down on you and torpedo this election as fast as you can spell H-O-P-E.