Taking my son to meet Dana

So earlier today the son and I drove up to Huntington Beach to knock on the door of our congressman, the not-particularly-honorable Dana Rohrabacher.

We knew he almost certainly wouldn’t be there because:

A. He’s never there.

B. It’s a holiday.

But, still, we rang the buzzer and waited a bit before taking off. And as I stood there, I couldn’t help but think how crappy this all is. In the Year of Donald Trump, and the simultaneous Year of Rejecting Donald Trump, far too many Republican officeholders are refusing to face their critics. It’s a cowardly way to behave; it actually reminds me of my days covering Major League Baseball, when the guy who blew a game with a key error was always praised afterward for “manning up” and facing the media.

I might be wrong here, but I actually think Dana Rohrabacher could score some points simply by not hiding; by standing before a room filled with angry people and saying, bluntly, “I know we don’t agree, but this is how I feel. If you don’t want me to represent you, vote against me. It’s a fair way.”

Alas, he won’t. He’s a hider—meaning constituents need to track him down, seek him out.

We’ll keep trying.

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