Saturday, September 27, 2008

Anthony

Friday, September 26, 1.00am

It was at 1 in the morning, we were tired, and we’d just arrived back to our hostel in DC, relieved to be out of the rain and relieved to have escaped a Karaoke night in Adams-Morgan relatively unscathed.

Idly, we struck up a conversation on the Hostel porch: we want to hear people’s views on his process, and we want to encourage people to be forthcoming with their opinions.

But this anger was directed with purpose. He was poking and prodding, fisting at my Obama t-shirt aggressively.

‘Look at these teeth. You thing they’re real?’ came the probing. ‘No way. Caps, every one. From firefights. Two different tours in Iraq.’

‘I’ve seen things you don’t even want to know about. In combat, I’ve been knifed in the kneecap and shot through the leg, I’ve seen my buddies die, and I’ve my front teeth knocked out by the butt a rifle.’

‘And you know what…? Obama’s my boy.’

‘My brother’s going to serve out there next month. This war needs to end. Ain’t no point to it. And so my Mom and all my family’s voting for Obama too.’

And with the beer we shared with him and the stories he told us and the Hope he spoke of for the future should Barack win, Drive for Obama had its first tale of America in 2008.

A & R

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