When the Democratic National Convention (here) was held in August of 2004 I was with my family on a vacation in New Zealand. The only opportunity I had to watch any of the convention coverage on TV was while riding the ferry from Picton to Wellington. Sitting in a tiny room with two other people watching the final day of the convention and Kerry's acceptance speech I could not help from muttering comments under my breath (ok, so some of it was out loud). A very proper looking, gray haired British lady sitting on my left couldn't avoid hearing my remarks and began a conversation with me. We discovered we were of like political mind and, like me, she was a political activist in her community on New Zealand's north island.
Like the other Kiwis (that's what New Zealanders informally call themselves) I met on that trip, she hoped -and expected- America would elect Kerry. We bonded...
When the
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