Christmas comes this time each year

Tom's running for Board of Supervisors so I spent Saturday walking around the lovely and sunny neighborhood of Bernal Heights trying to convince his neighbors to vote for him. "Bernal," as those who live there call it, is tucked away at the southern end of the city. The streets have their own rhythm, slower than other city streets and narrower too, giving them a cozy feel. The little houses are part bungalow, part cabin, and many of the homeowners have added personal touches, like tiny gardens, outdoor swings, wooden signs welcoming visitors except at the homes of the unwelcoming whose doormats simply say "Leave".

It was a very warm day and many of front doors were wide open. One home with the door open was decorated with Christmas ornaments and fringe and a tiny tree atop a table. It looked like those decorations had been up for quite some time. When I shouted "is anyone at home," a middle-aged gray-haired woman came out and was happy to take my flyer with Tom's platform. Despite the heat, she wore a long white nightgown of white flannel with small green and red reindeer scattered happily throughout the fabric. She appeared quite in touch with the election and seemed interested in Tom's candidacy. I believe that her obsession with Christmas was simply about it being something that makes her feel good, perhaps loved, purposeful, happy.

When I made my way back to Valtin Headquarters (an ironing board at The Good Life market), I found Ellen, Tom's wife, and another friend. (Actually, the iron board is an ingenious idea since it holds campaign literature without taking up the space that an ordinary table would.) I helped the two of them. One young man I talked to was on parole and couldn't vote, but after asking and finding out that Tom was not gay, he said his wife might vote for Tom. He liked that Tom was a "regular guy." One of my nurses from UCSF, Stacy, walked by but didn't stop. I placed her face after she passed and was sorry it took me so long to do so. She was very dedicated to me while I was in her care and it would have been the perfect opportunity to thank her, and ask her to vote for Tom.

Go Tom, go. Run, run reindeer.