The Battle of San Luis Obispo

                                                  By Laramie Crocker

At the outset, were the great tribes.  I travelled with the Tribe of
the North. We were to meet the tribe of the South, and the tribes of
the middles.

On our journey, we discussed the main impediment to the happy
unification of the tribes: the Wicked Witch of the South.  I was
incredulous that the Witch of the South could have such powers as she
did.  But my travelling partners told such stories of woe, replete
with underhanded doings and backstabbing, that I was compelled to
heed the warning.  But it was not 'til I met the Wicked Witch of the
South for myself, that I fully believed she could exist, and that she
could truly be evil. But I am getting ahead of our story.

Having surmised that we were destined to be squashed under the thumb
of the Witch of the South, I expressed a desire to let the light of
truth shine, and I fomented rebellion.  Quick were my compatriots to
urge me on to this rebellion, and lined up to give support.  Nay but
that I felt I would be the sacrificial lamb to go forward with my
resistance to the Witch.  But my compatriots were heartened, so I
felt that for the good of the group, I must.  And little had I to
loose -- I was the wandering minstrel, happy in the company of the
tribe of the North.  What was my downfall when the tribe could
succeed?  At the worst, I would write a song about the carnage, and
back in the green lands of Bonita Hollow, we could drink late into
the night and tell the Tale of the Meeting that Failed.

And so, at dinner the night before the battle, we hatched our plan.
As the fair spirit of luck would have it, the Tribe of the North had
secured a Co-host to the meeting.  And to this man, our Knight of the
North, did I and the fair maid of the everpresent notepad present our
plan.  Our Co-host agreed with our plan to right the wrong of the
stolen agenda, and to present the revised agenda to the group at
large for adoption.  This seemingly normal task was in direct
contradiction to wishes of the Wicked Witch of the South -- she had
stacked the agenda with her own items, and had given us a shell of
that agenda as pre-approved, and not open to adoption.

At breakfast the next day, one of our number brought forth the plan,
and again(!) handed the topic to me, your poor minstrel and wandering
knave, urging me on to present the plan to our breakfasting Northern
tribe's contingent.  I relayed the plan, and it was discussed, and
conferred upon by the wizened elders.  Again was I nominated to lead
the charge against the old witch.  With a heavy heart, I ate my
oversized pancake breakfast, fearing it would be my last solid meal.

When we converged upon the battleground, all was happiness and
bustle.  Tables and chairs were arranged, a cellphone link to the
Governor was affixed, music and soundgear prepared.  Our lady of the
perpetual notepad began to scribe the modified agenda on the
chalkboard -- it with two breakout sessions instead of one, and
announcement where before there were none.  We conferred with our
Knight of the North, and girded ourselves for battle.

At five minutes to the hour of the meeting, the skies grew dark, and
the winds did blow.  Dogs and cats in the neighborhood ran for cover.
The trees themselves quaked.  The Wicked Witch of the South
approached!  Dressed in the most hideous floral, gay tones
imaginable, with open toed sandals that would make a sea-faring,
swashbuckler quake, came the Witch.  And the Hat. The Hat.  It was
all your poor minstrel could do to contain his fear at the sight of
the hat.  The hat blotted out the sky, its multicolored brim obscured
all above and behind.  And below, below, below The Hat.... Dear
tribesmen and tribeswomen, I fear I cannot go on.

But I must.  She came with the hat.  And below the hat, a countenance
so haughty, so regal, so righteous, so full of itself, that mere
mortals were knocked aside by its audacity.  And soon behind her,
came Monkey-Boy.  Yes, the flying monkey with the sharp teeth, and
the nicely coordinated suitcoat and slacks.  Our Knight and I greeted
the witch and Monkey-Boy.  Our Knight calmly informed the duo about
the agenda changes.  And the witch opened her mouth to speak, and a
vile wind laid waste to several counties around.   She ranted and
railed, and our Knight stood fast.  Monkey-Boy took up the fight as
the witch huffed and pouted and walked in circles.  I engaged
Monkey-Boy in smiling combat, to assist the Knight. (I mustered an
assured, calming smile and rational talk, neither of which reflected
my inner state.) In short time, we prevailed the first skirmish. We
had won the right to present the agenda to a group vote for adoption.
Democracy: 1. Forces of evil: 0.

And so I sang the song of introduction to the good tribespeople.  And
the witch stood behind me, attempting to upstage me with her dour
countenance.  (She continued the holding of the upstage position
throughout the day.) But I have sung my songs in bars with rowdy
Republicans, and I was not swayed.  Our Knight presented the agenda,
and convened a vote, and we carried the vote almost unanimously.  And
the groups convened by our lady of the chariot-that-is-a-bra were
included. The tribespeople of the South and our new friends, the
tribespeople of the middles seemed happy to have some light to look
to that could shine under the great shadow of The Hat. Democracy: 2.
Forces of evil: 0.

On to the Agenda!  The agenda went nicely with introductions.  Our
lady of the meetups gave a stirring presentation of the goodness and
light the tribespeople of the North offered. Then the witch pulled
out a fast sally. Two un-announced speakers who were running for
office were given the floor! They presented political campaign
speeches for their campaigns. They were good fellows, but none of us
saw this item coming. The witch of the South gained somehow in this,
how I'm not exactly sure. Democracy: 2. Forces of evil: 1!  Then, to
the announcements.  We presented our announcements, and the glow of
energy and activism warmed the people with new hope.  I presented the good news
of PartyForAmerica, and many others made important announcements.
I then presented a message of goodwill to those who would receive bogus emails from
trolls, entreating those present to form the bonds at this meeting so
that future bogus emails could be recognized as such, and that they
could use the connections made at the meeting to get to the bottom of
the truth. Democracy: 3. Forces of evil: 1.

Our illustrious guiding light, the Governor himself, appeared on the
cellphone and filled the air with his voice.  He asked to take
questions from the floor, but Monkey-Boy insisted that the written
questions were sufficient.  So the great one spoke to the written
questions, and it was good.  But even better, when he was done, the
great one asked us to come forth still with questions from the floor.
Despite Monkey-Boy running around making disruptive comments all the
while, the questioners came, and the great one answered each in his
turn.  Among the answers, was a desire from the great one that
California have a single point of contact to the great one.

It is on this last point that our lady of the houseparties carried
the day.

But first, a report on what transpired at lunch.  For lunch, the
witch and Monkey-Boy repaired to outside, disdaining our company.
After the tribespeople had gotten plates of catered food, our Knight
began to present the need for the structure committee to form and
decide what kind of group the statewide organization would be.  It
was decided that the structure would be decided in the two breakout
sessions.

The Wicked Witch quickly announced that she would get to the bottom
of the email trolls herself, thus attempting to fool the people --
for she had done nothing up to this point to cease the bad air over
the emails. Democracy: 3. Forces of evil: 2.  O brothers and sisters
of the tribe, I feared that the battles, though glorious, would not
carry the day.

But then, after lunch, our lady of the houseparties stepped up and
boldly proposed that an interim liaison be elected to represent us to
the Great One, until the structure committee finished its task.  There was
some mild rebuke from Monkey-Boy, who but then withdrew his amendment -- he
was already beginning to show some reasonableness, perhaps because
the weight of The Hat was lifted slightly by our presence.  I put
forth a proposal to use Instant Runoff Voting, fearing a split
between the North and South tribes. Our good fellow of the South Bay,
good Sir IRV, jumped up to explain IRV to the people, and volunteered
to conduct the election. All were impressed by his command of the
situation, and again(!) was our motion carried.  Democracy: 4, Forces of Evil: 2!

Our fiery red-haired Queen, the Good Fairy Witch of the North, was
nominated to the ballot, as was Sir IRV, and our trusty Knight, and
also the good lady of the Southern house parties, and also Monkey-Boy
himself.  None stepped forth to nominate the Wicked Witch.

A tense moment held the room.  Would Monkey-Boy be elected, and bring
about an era of darkness and steal all the good energy of the newly
formed CA-DFA to the necessary but uninspired campaign of the
good Prince of the Fantastic Hair, and leave all others squabling
without inspiration and community?

The votes were tallied, and lo! The Good Fairy Witch of the North
prevailed. The tribespeople of the South were free of the yoke of The
Hat. Now to work! We must network with them, every one, to show them
the joy of distributed organizing, and self empowerment.

Democracy: 5. Forces of Evil: 2.   But this final victory was so much
larger than any of us had anticipated, that we could not believe it.
All of us, working together, and riding upon the work of our Good
Queen to foster community and make connections, carried the day.
Hard work and a desire to get the job done won this day over
self-centered bureaucrats.

There was a skirmish in the structure group, but I'll let others who
understand this more report on it.

In the end, we went home, weary from battle, but with light hearts,
having carried the day.  And on the way home we processed the
negative energy out of our systems from the wicked witch with therapy
and laughter, in the chariot-that-is-a-bra.  We ate greasy Mexican
food with our new Queen, the Good Fairy Witch of the North, now the
Queen pro tem of California for Democracy, and planned for her
glorious interim reign, with a new blog on a new website for California
for Democracy.

Long live the Queen! Long live Democracy!