Stranger Election Control Board Party Crasher Report: Part One
posted by November 6 at 23:08 PMon
Lines of communication broke down tonight faster than certain Seattle politicians’ careers, which means that I have to Slog all my reports all at once.
Let me also say that, in general, election nights turn me into a quivering, superstitious little fool. I’m not sure why—I’m an avowed atheist who doesn’t believe in anything supernatural—but the thought that our political course is being decided in one evening turns me into a cowering caveman. I decided, tonight, to fall prey to my fears. Some folks consult the I Ching when they are scared. I decided to consult the lyrics of Jay-Z’s newly-released American Gangster album, which, by the way, is total genius.
The first party that I hit up this evening was the Tim Burgess affair, at a lovely wine bar at the top of Queen Anne. Immediately upon my arrival, I walked up to Tim Burgess’s daughter, Kim Burgess, and started talking. After blabbing for a minute or so, she corrects me. In fact, I’m not talking to Tim Burgess’s daughter, Kim Burgess. I’m talking to Tim Burgess’s other daughter, Katie Burgess. She gestures over to the other side of the bar, where her older sister, Kim Burgess, daughter of Tim Burgess, older sister of Katie Burgess, is holding court. “It’s okay,” Katie said, “It happens all the time.”
That ended the conversation cold.
I took the opportunity to go to the bathroom and hit up American Gangster. Jay-Z had this to say: “Let’s go/Get out the car/goin’ in circles/it’s a vicious cycle/this is a crash course/this ain’t high school/wake up muttley/you’re dreamin’ again/you’re reality show/the season begins.” This, obviously, meant that Jay-Z was feeling cautiously optimistic about the whole thing.
I returned to the wine bar, where waiters were unloading huge amounts of delicious food—trays of bread with pesto, cold cut platters, and delightful little mini burgers.
I start talking to a local top-of Queen Anne-ite. The conversation quickly devolved into a complaint about how Metropolitan Market closed and a QFC was going to open into the same space. The gentleman I was talking to said that “QFC doesn’t offer the same choices that Metropolitan Market does, and so we decided to do something.”
I asked him if his battle against QFC—“You know, I have nothing against QFC, but there’s already one at the bottom of the hill,” he said—was the reason why he was for Tim Burgess. “Absolutely,” he replied.
This kind of explained Burgess’s pastoral election posters that I’d been seeing around:
Look at that shit. Trees, houses, a sunset. If there was ever a more bucolic scene on an election poster, I’ve yet to see it. I was hardly surprised when the results came in and the people were entirely on Burgess’s side, at nearly 65%. People were discussing whether or not Burgess should come out with a acceptance speech—at 8:30 in the evening!—and so it was time to leave. The food kept coming and the wine bar got so crowded that waiters could hardly make their way through the place.