Rick Simonson

A Little More Audacity Now (Maybe a Lot More)
February 25, 2008

Our store's bestselling author for 2006 whirled through town a few weeks ago, definitely not on book tour this time, though some collateral relationship to Barack Obama's present campaign for the Democratic nomination is that his two books, The Audacity of Hope and Dreams from My Father, seem on their way to becoming among 2008's bestsellers.

To us at Elliott Bay (and other stores that hosted him, with parallel experiences) it had been no particular surprise, once the campaign, post-Super Tuesday, aimed its way to Washington (candidates Hillary Clinton and John McCain also came through), that Senator Obama could fill the 19,000-capacity arena he did on about a day's notice, with thousands more turned away.

Back in the fall of 2006, when we were plotting logistics of his speaking and signing appearance for The Audacity of Hope, we got a certain feeling, without anyone telling us otherwise, that the church we were planning to present him in, wonderful as it was, with a seating capacity of 1000, would be quite inadequate. This, though no one to my knowledge, here in town (or elsewhere, as it turned out in his case, on that book tour), had presented a touring author in anything substantially larger. With the forbearance of the people from the church, who were still involved, and the help of others, we made a quick-change, and presented him in Benaroya Hall, home of the Seattle Symphony, capacity 2500. The tickets for that, when made them available, were snatched up in a flash. We're talking moments. That response, as much as anything back then, foretold what the response now is. 

Before a few anecdotes from that October night that have some resonance now, one word on what is being said as this campaign (of everyone still running) keeps going at it.

I didn't hear or see Obama's Seattle talk, but have heard/seen what is essentially his basic stump speech. In parts and places it can be fairly consistent with remarks Senator Clinton has made (this, especially before Wisconsin, and now, with certain 'firewall' moments approaching) - both touching on many of the same issues or themes. Both made nearly identical references to the quarterly profits of Exxon Mobil (though with differing amounts of money cited). In Obama's talk, there is a point where he talks of education and needing to broaden and deepen it beyond just getting better test scores for children. When he said we should want our children to learn and love art and music, I had such a my goodness response that I almost totally missed the reference he then made to young people's also knowing and appreciating poetry. Poetry? A candidate for elective office, never mind the presidency, is mentioning the importance of poetry? It was a true, fan-myself moment. I felt overcome.

Back to our evening with the senator in October 2006: because of tight scheduling, particularly his getaway, arrangements were made for an early arrival to sign stock, including copies for use should he have to leave before everyone's books had been signed. A small delegation was awaiting his anticipated arrival, by car, at the specially-designated loading dock entrance to the symphony hall. A few of us from Elliott Bay, Benaroya Hall, Obama's Crown publicist and a small gaggle of police officers were all standing there, making conversation as we waited. Traffic in downtown Seattle was standstill thick - this was rush hour - and we, with a 6 p.m. start and 2500 people on their way - were adding to the congestion. At one poiint, Christine the publicist decided to bide time by having a smoke. No sooner did she step out from us onto the sidewalk, though, and lighting up, but that she was ditching her cigarette. 'Oh ... here he is ...'  she was suddenly saying. And there, bounding down the sidewalk, all by his lonesome and seeming to enjoy it, an easy smile and hands in pockets, was one Barack Obama. He had decided it was easier, and faster, just to walk the last part. There was a true, comic moment: the police officers, in this secured place, suddenly had their charge there, and made to do their duty, protecting him from no one. Yet there he had been ... out free, amidst the multitude, untended.

From my limited (backstage until booksigning time) perspective, the evening was all delight, mostly smooth-going,  pleasure (I know there were machinations going on with getting the signing line devised and set up for a lobby area that doesn't usually accomodate such), even as various aspects came into last minute play. Senator Obama was totally gracious, seemed far more 'present' with who he was meeting and greeting than most authors - and with an amazingly rigorous schedule. He was also on-task and dutiful about signing lots of books.

When it was showtime, he did seem genuinely astonished at the size and enthusiasm of the gathering. It was standing ovation and rah rah time - as he received his raucous welcome.

Later I would hear from some that as much as they enjoyed his talk - and meeting him - they had been hoping for more oratory, more high notes, more soar. To that point, Obama was probably most known for his keynote address, as an unknown Illinois state senator, at the 2004 Democratic convention. (This is amusing and a bit ironic now, with various opponents going after him for being too much about soaring talk ...) I felt I had to explain context - book tour, doing this talk over and over, the signing time and energy, too (human stamina), and the place calmer, quieter talk has (as well as the grand eloquence). People did get it.  The quiet reading of a book has its place in all that, too - and then the animated discussion, the voting or the participation in caucuses ... all of that being how it has gone and been going the 16 months since that booktour.

At the conclusion of things that night, Obama's departing was as memorable as his arrival. He had spoken to the assembled, he had quickly phoned home (near bedtime for young daughters in Chicago with their father out west), and he had signed everyone's books. Everyone seemed happy. Back to the loading dock area we went. His car, and driver, arrived eventually, would be there. I knew there wasn't the 'usual' media escort, but assumed - with a bestselling book, big publisher, a tight schedule, and whatever else one would factor in - that it would be a seriously nice, big, dark, spacious car, the driver one of those men or women nicely dressed, ready to do their professional duty.

Instead, as the loading door shuttled open ... there was a tiny red imported car, the driver some friend or volunteer ... and one of Obama's two aides (Robert Gibbs, still very much by his side now, is the recollection) hustlingg in from across the street with white bags of takeout. Dinner would be on the run ... The two aides squeezed into the back, and the good senator had to scrunch his own long frame into the front. Waves and thanks goodbye ... and they were on their way. Much has changed since then, including arrivals and derpartures, but on the way Barack Obama still very much is.

Posted by Rick Simonson on February 25, 2008 | Comments (0)