Today I got off my ginormous ass and walked part of the 40th ward, knocking on doors for my man Miguel del Valle. I knocked on the door of every single soul that I know in this neighborhood and lots of doors that I didn't. My feet tonight look like strange, unappetizing sausages. What I do is introduce myself and explain that I'm speaking up for Miguel del Valle, and I let them know that I have some extra window signs if they'd like one (schlepping these things around in the freezing rain today was a joy.) If they're not home, I leave a note on the door. So far, I've given away four signs. For a man who shakes and stutters, I didn't do too badly, although I could tell people were wondering if I was going more for Elvis or Mel Tillis. It
