It's been a busy weekend over at John Pavich for Congress. Dozens of volunteers addressed thousands of envelopes and made hundreds of phone calls to potential supporters, adding substantially to our email list of volunteers.
I feel very satisfied with how the weekend went, but it also left me exhausted (after all, I have a "real job" to do as well). When it was all over, I made the four-hour drive to my parents' place in Bloomington, Indiana. They're moving to Boston this summer, and this is my last chance to spend a few days in the house where I grew up.
People keep asking how I'm going to feel about saying goodbye to the house, and I never have a very good answer (I still don't, although I'm writing this from the kitchen table). I think that's because this place isn't important to me for what it is, but rather for what it reminds of and where it sends my train of thought. When I'm here, my mind goes places that it doesn't ordinarily get a chance to go, and that's what I'll miss most. All of which, eventually, circuitously, brings me back to politics, activism, and John Pavich. Click below to read why...
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