Though I made as many phone calls as was humanly possible during the last presidential campaign, my name seems to have been omitted from the guest list for the event at George Clooney's. I know this will be discovered and be truly embarrassing to the Obama campaign. Okay, it doesn't qualify as bullying and I'm willing to see it as an oversight, nothing intended to hurt, but, still, I called old people in Ohio and Jews in Pennsylvania, moving on to the West Coast when it got late on the East Coast. Election day, I continued phoning, both from Obama headquarters in lower Manhattan and from my home, frantically making my way through lists provided online.
I canvassed in the suburbs of Philadelphia, knocking on doors and begging everyone to vote for Obama, taking a short break for a cheese steak, but pressing on, determined to do my part to help get him elected. If Barbra Streisand and Rob Reiner were ringing doorbells, I never ran into them. Yet they were both at George's Studio City house last night while I was at home, the dress I'd cleaned for this occasion hanging in the closet.
Nobody would accuse me of being a credit grabber. I don't claim to be responsible for saving the auto industry, but it's not impossible that my calls were responsible for turning the swing states into Obama's. I was indefatigable. It's not as if the campaign didn't recognize my contributions. Someone from the Washington office called to thank me for my efforts. I didn't catch his name, but I remember that he wanted me to know how much Obama and Biden appreciated how hard I'd been working on their behalf. I felt appreciated but this has created some concern that mistakes have been made. It's possible that I'll get a call later from the president or one of his assistants and I'll, of course, be cordial and pleasant, but that doesn't change the fact that I should have been invited.