It was 8 degrees still in Lincoln this morning - for those of us who live in California, eight is a hard number to imagine. It's like this: I got out of the truck this morning in front of the Federal Building, walked to the back door, about 20 feet, and my fingers were so cold I could barely put the key in the lock and open the door.
Fortunately, in Laramie, Guillermo gave me a pair of lined leather gloves, plus I have hot pink knitted gloves with fingers missing - between both pairs, my hands stay somewhat warm but totally un-manipulate-able.
I stood in front of the Federal Building this morning - more like paced back and forth rapidly on the sunny side - for 20 minutes. Exactly 4 people passed me, none of them wanting to leave a message of hope for me to take to D.C.
I searched out a coffee house, which was closed, and the library, which was also closed. Gave up and headed to Omaha, where I know there is at least a Wild Oats.
From Grand Island to Omaha, only 5 people/cars/trucks enthusiastically and positively acknowledged the truck. No one disapproved - or showed it.
In Omaha, the bright, clear, brittle day gave way to dusty chalk fog that upon closer scrutiny became tiny flea-sized flakes of snow.
Once again, I waited in front of the Senator's office building that houses many other offices too, and not one person or press showed up. Some older white man did drive next to the truck to ask me what I was doing there. I wasn't sure if he was joining me or press, so I encouraged his interaction until I find out he was playing parking police.
Again, I waited until 12:30 and then headed to Wild Oats. Another terrible blow - they were closed and a whole foods sign hung in the window - as in 'we've moved to whole foods....'
I hung out for awhile between flakes and frigid wind, trying to engage folks in interesting, inciting conversation but everyone was like, yeah, peace, jobs, money, obama.
I headed toward Des Moines, got yet one more hotel and am crossing fingers the snow will end soon.