A couple of years ago, after the bubble crashed, my wife and I decided to buy a condo in Vegas. There were many reasons behind that decision, but Sin City is known for delivering the unexpected. And so, political junkie that I am, I suddenly found myself eligible to participate in an early, swing-state, caucus. Las Vegas had taken me into virgin territory.

Being a caucus neophyte, I approached the matter gingerly. I called the Clark County Republican Party office seeking guidance. What happens at a caucus? How long does it run? What’s the procedure? No one possessed definitive answers to these complex questions, but we were able to determine that folks in my precinct were caucusing at a nearby High School. The doors opened at 8:00 AM, with the caucus itself slated to start at 9:00. Anyone could speak on behalf of any candidate; each speaker would have two minutes. Beyond that, things got a little vague. I pre-registered on line “to avoid the crowds” of caucus day.
I arrived at Valley High School at 9:00 AM, impressed to see a sizable packed parking lot. Perhaps these are the political activists I hear so much about, I thought. Great to see how many of them show up early on a Saturday morning. But for a group of activists, the lot seemed singularly inactive. Where were the Paulistas, gesticulating wildly to emphasize that the Fed is our enemy, while Iran is not? Where were the Romney and Gingrich surrogates deflating each other’s tires? Where were Santorum’s nattily-dressed minions? Where were the folks waving Perry and Bachmann signs, refusing to admit that their party was over? Two helpful teenagers provided the answers: the caucus was on the other side of campus. The folks parked in this lot were there for—get this—Valley High School.
I dutifully drove around the block to find the much smaller but equally pacific lot bearing two signs marked “Caucus here,” one sign for Ron Paul, and a TV truck. I entered the school cafeteria, where a helpful volunteer directed me to the table for pre-registrants. I surveyed the scene quickly: Fifty or so small tables, broken into groups, and perhaps two hundred people. No politicking as far as I could tell, no speechifying, just a room full of Americans out enjoying their morning. The young woman who checked me informed me that my precinct was convening in the gym. I thanked her for the directions. Then I told her that it was my first caucus, and asked her what the procedure was. “It’s my first caucus, too,” she said. “So I don’t know.” I thanked her again and headed to the gym.
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