My daughter Emma invited me to come to New York City Wednesday, she needs some help. She’s going to Hillary Clinton campaign headquarters in Brooklyn to make some telephone calls on the candidate’s behalf. When they called to ask her to come, she said she had a newborn baby, they said “bring her.”

She wondered if I might wish to come along to help out. I’m in. To be honest, I can’t imagine a better way to build a relationship with my granddaughter than to help her and her mother elect the first female President of the United States.

I was in town briefly this morning, and mentioned this to a woman I know outside of the post office, and she said, “oh well, I suppose you don’t care that Hillary Clinton is a murderer, and is planning to kill millions of unborn babies!”  Actually, I said, this really wasn’t something that factored into the trip for me, this, I thought, is America right now.

It is a hard subject for me, I lost a dying son in that way, it is not something I want to debate with a stranger.

This definitely broke the spirit of the moment, being told I was supporting a mass murder, but not for long. The next person I ran into thought it was a wonderful way to help my daughter out and bond with my granddaughter, shown above sticking her tongue out at her mother.

I wanted to hug the first woman, she had a pretty grim scowl on her face, and no wonder. I left her in peace, I do not argue politics with people like that, or even with people who aren’t like that.

I think it’s no secret that I intend to vote for Hillary Clinton, but I am not the phone call, door-to-door canvasser type. I don’t put signs on the lawn or bumper stickers on the car.

I am one of the few odd ones who thinks politics and voting are private, personal,  things, I don’t need to wear them on my sleeve, and Hillary doesn’t need too much more phone help from me right now, Donald Trump will almost single-handedly get her elected if nothing else does.

I do love the idea of helping my granddaughter and my daughter elect a woman president. To me, that is a bonding experience. And Emma will need some help if she is going to make phone calls for a couple of hours with a month-old baby in her lap or nearby.

It isn’t something that would have occurred to me to do alone, but it makes great sense in this context. A way to help, something concrete to do. I think I can really help.

I see a grandfather role here that works for me. I’ll carry Robin around and show her all these people, listen to the beeps and rings of phones, look out windows, change a few diapers, explore a new corner of the world together, and let my daughter to her thing.

I am also happy to support Hillary Clinton, I feel everywhere the spirit of women rising and am very happy to put my very small thumbprint in support of  that movement. I don’t want anyone ever telling my granddaughter they can grab her genitals if they choose to. Maybe this will help.

So I have my tickets, Maria will drive me to the train (again) early in the morning,  I’ll have time to get to Brooklyn (I always wish I had the time or money to go to B&H Photo and buy a lens, but not until I get my book contract money, and maybe not even then.)

I got word this morning that my publisher is ready to make an offer for my next book, I’ll talk to my agent about it this afternoon.

Off to the dentist for a cleaning.