Oh, What a Night.

I phone banked until the very last minute last night. As this election has ground on, I've discovered that making calls after work was a good way to feel like I was helping with the process, an election activity that utilized my personal lack of shame and genuine fascination with other people.

As anyone who has phone banked before will tell you, the task can be sisyphean, with hang-ups and voicemails and folks who are opposed to your candidate or opposed to the system or opposed to you calling them during dinner - I hear you dude.

So last night, as we entered the final hour of the California Primary, calls were devoted to making sure that people voted. Clinton supporter, Sanders supporter, whatever, just getting on the phone and making sure Californians voted. And while most had, and were quick to share their joy of having done so, I had one call that made my night.

At around 7:15, as Hillary was taking the stage at the Brooklyn Naval Yard to historically claim the nomination, I reached a man in Southern California. He’d just got home from work, and said that while his family had voted, he didn’t think he was going to. He was tired, it had been a long day, and he thought that since it was so close to eight o’clock, there was no reason to try.

I mentioned that this was my first presidential election, and asked him if he knew where his polling station was. When we gave him the address, he realized it was only a few blocks away from his home. And just like that, as his wife and daughter walked in the door from voting, he thanked me for calling and said he was going to jog right past them to get to the polling place and vote under the wire.

For those of you grizzled politico Mischievians who’ve been around the election block, this probably seems old hat to you. But it made my night.