The second round of caucuses for the Democratic Party in Washington state was held on Saturday. I had hoped to attend (I was selected as an alternate from my precinct), but between tax season and being sick it proved impractical. Whatever hours I'm not working, I need to be home resting and preserving my tenuous health; and whatever hours I'm vigorous enough to be out and about I need to go to work. (In case you're wondering, writing for Benzene counts as resting, and if and when it becomes unrestful, I'll take a break from it.)

In my recent report on this year's precinct caucus, I remarked on how the proceedings opened with a recitation of the pledge of allegiance, and I contemplated the contrast with my recollection from the precinct caucus I attended in 2004. As with other differences, I wondered if the relevant change is that four years have passed or that I now live six miles further north.

And now I know the answer: It is that I live six miles further north. This article on yesterday's district caucus down in Seattle — the same part of town where I used to live — tells of how a proposal to recite the pledge of allegiance was booed and overwhelmingly voted down.

... I started writing this post on Sunday, but I didn't complete it because when I reached this point I found I couldn't successfully articulate exactly why this bothers me so much. I still can't, so I won't; I'll just state that it does.

I don't even love the pledge very much. It neither excites me with its poetry nor inspires me with its message. But even if it's sort of lame, it's still a traditional expression of loyalty to our country. For a roomful of activists to actually boo it strikes me as cringingly childish and self-indulgent. It makes me embarrassed to be a Democrat.

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