It was 1968. A little known local politician named Allard K. Lowenstein was running for Congress in my suburban neighborhood in Nassau County. Al lived in a small cottage on the west end of Long Beach - a place that was bohemian chic compared to our ranch-burger house just a stone's throw away in Oceanside. He'd been involved with desegregation movements in the South --- a hero in our very white neighborhoods.
Al would invite us, the students, over to discuss social and political issues. Now that I think about it... preach is probably a better word. I was only in high school, couldn't even cast a vote, but I was mesmerized by Al's ability to make us believe that we were the change - not just any politician. His adeptness as a politician was to deputize of us all to be politicians. Sanders is the successor to the Pied Piper throne. He appeals to the narcissistic and impatient cry of every young generation. We matter and we're going to change things, fast.
There seems to be a certain studied look to wooing young voters. Male. Unruly hair, disheveled look, unkempt suits and poorly tucked shirts. There's that nutty professor eye-contact thing that's part evangelist and part "I've got my head in some other place." Humor, whimsy and most of all an ability to laugh at politics, even while you love it. That's the secret sauce.
I went gaga for Lowenstein. I begged my Dad to stick one of those Lowenstein for Congress picket signs on our front lawn. I loved that sign. I didn't understand all the intricacies of Vietnam but I knew that too many had died for all the wrong reasons. If Al thought it was an immoral war, we did too. We were Al's soldiers. He got us to make phone calls to people we didn't know - a teenage act of bravery. He got us to knock on doors and hear from people with whom we disagreed. Another teenage anomaly. He got us to jump on buses to Washington carrying signs and singing songs. Al's critics scratched their heads and couldn't figure out what was up with the schlubby guy and his Pied Piper thing.
Ultimately things didn't work out too well for Lowenstein. His District was gerrymandered and he lost his second bid for Congress to a business-as-usual Republican, Norman Lent. Lowenstein and his "shiksa" wife (who we all wanted to be just like when we grew up) got divorced. Finally, in 1980, a deranged friend, someone Lowenstein knew since his early campaign days, stalked him and killed him. The irony? The killer was the kind of devotee/lost soul that Al was always trying to engage in politics. Some say what fueled Lowenstein, the ability to speak to the disaffected, was what killed him.
Al was like our Dads but cool. Sanders is like your grandfather but cool. Both understand that young voters want to know they are the importance in the process, not the candidates. They want to know they can change the status quo, that they can be the disrupters. If a generation of Congressman Lowenstein's followers had enough clout to influence Lyndon Johnson to exit from Vietnam, then why can't a bunch of idealistic young voters be able to end the forever wars in Afghanistan and Syria?
Fast forward more than forty years. I named my second daughter Arli in honor of Allard Lowenstein. I left active politics because the burdens of raising a family and working were overwhelming. I'll be voting for Hillary because Bernie, like Al, is a bit of a one trick pony. And I'm older and a bit more skeptical now. But I'll never forget the rapture, the high and the incredible hope of believing in a good man who said that I was a part of the solution. Bernie knows what Al knew.
Robin Raskin is founder of Living in Digital Times (LIDT), a team of technophiles who bring together top experts and the latest innovations that intersect lifestyle and technology. LIDT produces conferences and expos at CES and throughout the year focusing on how technology enhances every aspect of our lives through the eyes of today's digital consumer.