Bernie's campaign gives me a chance to do something rare.
On the evening of March 1st, six days before my 45th birthday, I will be in the middle school gymnasium in Worthington, Minnesota to participate in Minnesota's Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party caucus. A lifelong progressive liberal, I have voted every two years since I cast my first ballot back in 1990. That being said, I did not bother to participate in my first caucus until 2008. Flash backward eight years, I drove nearly 20 miles through an icy blizzard to find myself sitting in that very same middle school gymnasium on a freezing cold metal folding chair for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only about an hour and a half. I understood both Obama's and Clinton's positions on the issues about as well as anyone and to be honest I never in the slightest felt any animosity toward any of the candidates despite how nasty the nomination battle was. I would've been a John Edwards supporter but he smiled too much. With the specter of the Bush-Cheney reign still present and wafting through the minds of everyone in the place like the smell of a meat locker whose power had been cut off months ago, I took a stubby pencil that was roughly three times fatter that it should've been with only the ghost of an eraser left on its butt and marked a big, sloppy X with firm and resolute determination next to the name "Hillary Clinton". The motivation for my actions on that cold and blustery winter night at the time could not have been clearer to me. On that day in 2008 I knew with absolute certainty that America would end under another Republican presidency. And I knew with absolute certainty that America was never going to elect a black man for president in my lifetime. I volunteered to become a county delegate. I got to meet Al Franken. I got his autograph. It absolutely the highlight of my night. The rest, as you all know by now, is history.
Two days from now when I'm on that folding chair once again I'll be putting that big, sloppy X next to the name "Bernie Sanders". I will do this not because of his electability nor because of any disdain that may be there for Hillary. I will be doing this because voting for Bernie is simply the right thing to do. I will be voting for Bernie on Super Tuesday because for that one moment I will be doing something that has become incredibly rare in American politics. I will be voting for a person who I truly love. I was blessed with this same incredible opportunity twice before when I cast my very first ballot in 1990 and again in 1996 for a man named Paul Wellstone. I didn't even realize how much I loved my late senator until that day in October 2002 when he boarded a plane heading north and eight hours later I was crying. My burning tears have become the "Bern" in my heart. We have taken Paul's broken wings and, by the millions, we have given them to you, Bernie Sanders. And know this, regardless of whether you soar for two full terms or only two more days. We have been blessed to watch you fly.
My God, how we love to watch you fly.
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That's because we're all so nice. 
(Actually, we're pretty passive aggressive, but we're very polite).
