SEPTEMBER 24, 2024 – Today on the way home today from the Red Cabin in rural northwest Wisconsin, I lost count of the Trump signs along the way. If that part of the country is politically representative of the rest of rural America, you could fairly say that Trump “owns” it. (I counted three Harris signs plus a hand-painted, “Vote Democrat!” sign on an 8 x 4 sheet of plywood.)
The proliferation of Trump signs—even since my drive to the Red Cabin a week ago—reminded me of the Goldwater signs that dominated the rural route between my hometown of Anoka, Minnesota and heavily Democratic Minneapolis in 1964. I never saw a single LBJ sign. From my extremely narrow perspective, I was certain Goldwater would win by a landslide. I was shocked when my parents and older sisters said “No way!” almost in perfect unison, when I announced my prognostication at the dinner table one evening in October of that fateful year. How could my family ignore the 100-to-0 ratio of Goldwater-to-LBJ signs along the West River Road?
But they were right, of course; LBJ won by a landslide.
This time around, polling suggests that the race between Trump and Harris will remain a toss-up. The contest will come down to a handful of counties in seven swing states—or at least that’s the conventional wisdom.
We’ll soon find out—or maybe not “soon” as on Election Day evening or even the next day, the following week or more than a month later (the 2000 election wasn’t decided until December 12)—but eventually we will find out. Given what transpired on January 6, 2021, however, we can’t be sure that if Trump loses, he and the extremists among his base won’t declare victory. If they riot again, screeching, “Stop the Steal!” we’ll know we’re in for another rough patch.
For now, though, I’m putting election denialism where it belongs—in the past.
As I hurtled over the countryside, “Trump” and “Vance” flashing across my peripheral view, I heard a public radio report “on the ground” in Nevada, a swing state with six electoral votes. A voter who was interviewed said he was “exhausted” by the campaign, and “just wanted it to be over.” I was sure that the voter had plenty of company across the country. Many would agree that the presidential election season in America is far too long. In no other democracy is the process of electing a national leader so intense, protracted and expensive, yet so light on substance.
But this time around, once the election is over and whatever shenanigans that ensue are subdued, and the nation advances to Inauguration Day . . . then what?
Whoever wins will have to assume the Mantle of Responsibility that follows victory. The boxing match will end as the real work begins: pulling together the transition team; gearing up for a marathon of 4,000 presidential appointments (with assistance from the Office of Presidential Personnel), starting with personal advisors, chief of staff, West Wing personnel, cabinet secretaries and undersecretaries, ambassadors, and federal district attorneys; reading/listening to daily briefings on multiple fronts, from national security to foreign crises to domestic fires to the latest developments on various policy matters; back-to-back-to-back formal and informal meetings with an array of advisors and influencers about everything under the sun; and keeping an active hand in designing and guiding legislative and regulatory agendae. Oh, and when there’s time . . . the next prexy will need to squeeze in a state dinner or simply . . . a sandwich during a working lunch . . . and a decent night’s sleep.
Or, if you’re Trump, you don’t have to worry about briefings, advisors or 4,000 presidential appointments (“Drain the swamp!”); or for that matter, working lunches (with or without sandwiches), just Coke and cheeseburgers while watching Fox and Friends.
In any event, the rest of the world will keep turning, hopping, catching fire right on through. The threats and problems that beleaguer us will continue, waiting to be addressed before they become more difficult, more burdensome to confront. If we find ourselves exhausted by a policy lite boxing campaign, what stamina will we have for the real work ahead? Participatory democracy requires more than voting. It depends on a well-informed electorate, and just as the next president-elect will need to shift overnight from “boxing mode” to “marathon mode,” so will we citizens need to move from “lawn sign mode” to “staying on top of the issues mode.”
It would behoove us all to get a jump start now; to drop the boxing gloves and don our long-distance running shoes for the marathon that awaits us.
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© 2024 by Eric Nilsson
