Signature Gatherer

I was sitting in a coffee shop writing a weird piece about Oscar Wilde when I looked out the window and saw something that startled me. At first I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, then I recognized did.

Joy! A young man was gathering signatures for a ballot initiative. I hadn’t seen such a quintessential Oregon sight for over 25 years! And in fact, gathering signatures to qualify an initiative for the ballot was something almost disappeared from Oregon political life.

Remember the 80s-90s when we voted on dozens of such successful petition drives? It was the bane and beauty of our elections. It gave us medical marijuana and Lon Mabon’s evil OCA anti-gay measures. Back in those days, almost all petition gatherers were unpaid, unlike today, which might be a metaphor of some kind.

The signature gatherer was jaunty as he worked. He practically skipped. He had long blonde hair tied off in a ponytail and wore tan slacks, a shiny brown leather jacket from the 70s and patent loafers. What an ensemble to promote democracy! I dug it. He was clearly digging his duty and I dug that, too.

His gathering technique intrigued me Every other gatherer I’d seen over the decades stood stationary in front of a busy retail outlet or post office. Sometimes they even sat at tables. Most looked bored or dour.

Not this dude! He was on the move, smiling, waving, chatty, coming up to people walking or sitting at tables outside restaurants and cafes. He even accompanied people across crosswalks. He talked to people’s dogs! He probably fed them treats!

I simply had to sign the petition. I knew it wasn’t going to be some reactionary proposal such as banning the teaching of slavery because it hurts certain students’ feelings. This was Portland after all. It would probably be an initiative to legalize magic mushrooms for medicinal use. Wait, Oregon voters already passed that one!

It was time to go. The gatherer might disappear any second. I finished my coffee and went out to sign a petition and advance direct democracy. I even caught myself jogging a bit. Jesus, I was really into democracy probably because it’s dying around Oregon and elsewhere in America. Perhaps dying is the wrong word, perhaps murdered is the right one. There is a difference.

The search was on. It took five minutes but I found him. He was just finishing up with a glazier repairing a window busted out by drug deranged hooligans. He was overjoyed to see me. I had tracked him down after all. Who does that in Oregon anymore? I do!

The initiative sought to discourage lawmakers (meaning rural Republicans) from walking out of legislative session by making them forfeit their seat if they were absent without permission from the House Speaker or Senate Leader for more than 12 days in a row. Or something to that effect. I didn’t read the fine print. I just wanted to sign it and compel those elected to a legislative body to actually govern when they’re in the minority. That’s the way it’s done in America. And if you don’t want to remain in the minority, then you change.

I signed it. He thanked me. And that was my good democratic duty for the day.