The Opiate

As a New Hampshire native, my childhood was marked by the infectious energy of the First in the Nation Primary. I was raised just blocks from the smoke-filled Elks Lodge in Dover, where in 1992 then-Arkansas governor Bill Clinton made his “till -the-last-dog-dies” plea that helped him to a second-place finish here and won him the name “The Comeback Kid.”

Every four years, my parents housed out-of-town canvassers and “political tourists” alike. Our neighbors’ front yards were filled with a mosaic of political signage. This was my world, and my native-born interest in politics ultimately drove me to American University.

Before that, I always took the Granite State’s unique place in the political process for granted. As the saying goes, “Fish don’t know they’re in water.”

Now, four years after I left New Hampshire, I returned as the political, prodigal son. I better understand why the family in our hotel traveled hundreds of miles to see democracy in action.

The New Hampshire primary is an opiate: equal parts addiction and sublime pleasure.

What’s the source of this magnetic attraction?

Jim McCoy, who has lived in Manchester for more than 25 years, has an answer.

“Its really unique in that it’s a small state, and because of its size the candidates get to see an intimate picture of the state,” McCoy said. “They have a lot of face time with the individual residents of the state.”

McCoy’s theory is based on geography and one-to-one interactions, but is that all? Is that what makes this otherwise isolated enclave in New England so special?

Louis Scribner of Londonderry has a different perspective.

“I mean its lovely seeing them on television, but we get to see them in the flesh,” Scribner said about the candidates.

And therein lies the truth. New Hampshire provides the unique opportunity to see titans of politics and media as real human beings.

The Granite State takes the consultants, the conservative ties and pantsuits, the perfectly polished stump speeches, and tosses them out the window into the nearest pile of snow. In New Hampshire, voters see the sweat on Bernie’s brow – a glint of humanity that never leaks through the television makeup.

In New Hampshire, a student who dreams of becoming a political pundit can meet Bloomberg News columnist Al Hunt, and feel he can someday get there.

In New Hampshire, I am reminded that the men and women who grace our nightly news are real people who once dreamed the dreams I do. In New Hampshire, ordinary people are in a unique position to shape history.

This on-the-ground reality is what makes the New Hampshire primary so special.