Summer in Iowa City….ahhh….park where you want, for the children have all gone home! Every weekend we have a festival! Sand! Art! Jazz! Pride! Every Friday there’s a band playing by the fountain! Streets are closed for food trucks and porta potties and beer pens! Movies are projected on the side of McBride! While they are gone we Live It Up.
Back from Jay’s event in Cedar Rapids (As a preschooler, daughter #17 called it See the Rabbits.) JM and I hustle downtown to see if we can catch the end of Cory’s Political Party Live taping. We skillfully dodge salsa dancers by the fountain and enter a room that smells like pencils. Hah hah, the walls are covered with sharpened pencils. Very clever decor, hotel in Unesco City of Literature. Cory is just arriving as we get oriented, nice and late. We find a spot to stand with a few hundred of our closest friends closely packed around us.
JM brings me a very cold beer. I’m hungry. It’s hot. Cory is passionate and gives me chills, talking about race and guns and stuff. He’s amazing. My excessive sweatiness intensifies until there is a steady trickle from the back of my head, down my neck, down my back, between the boobs, splashing on my shoulders – splish splash. I tell JM I’m stepping out to cool off and aim my face towards the lobby and hope everything else follows. In the blast of air I meet on the other side of the door is a very nice young man with a nametag and a clipboard. He asks if we are ready to caucus for Cory, then assesses reality and gets me a chair and a glass of ice water. He still wants me to caucus for Cory though and tries to get my phone number. I tell him I don’t know my phone number because I actually don’t remember it.
At our favorite air conditioned speakeasy fifteen minutes later JM and I order solid food, light icy cocktails and many glasses of ice water. It’s very nice but I don’t really fully recover – my autonomic nervous system is still on the blink so I continue sweating like a fool and very much look forward to reclining at home.
The server comes around to take our empty dishes, looks me in the eye and says, “so, are we done drinking for the evening?” She’s taken my dishevelment and obvious desire to recline as signs of extreme inebriation. That’s a new one; plumpish, perpetually damp, middle aged yrmama suspected of being overly soused. I guess it’s rather sweet of her to look out for me, but sousededness is truly not part of yrmama’s brand. Explaining to her, “so, yrmama, that’s me, has this genetic collagen defect that can lead to blah blah blah and stretchy blood vessels blah blah,” seemed counterproductive though so I graciously agreed with her, paid up and went home to recline.
***Late Edit – yrmama, in all her self-absorption neglected something. Cory is RADIANT. On top of being smart, charming, experienced in politics and a very fine orator, it turns out Cory is spiritually evolved. Which I know because yrmama can sense that kind of thing. This vegan, AME and rather Jewish man who is friends with Gayle (Oprah’s friend) is running on a platform of love, with a capital L which makes it Love. Watch him glow.