Up there, letter A, that’s where my folks live, north of Reno about an hour. The last 20 minutes or so of that trek is down dirt roads. Their driveway is an incredibly steep climb, something like 500 feet elevation change in a quarter-mile. It’s intimidating in the dead, dry heat of summer and precarious with the slightest hint of snow. The view is stark and beautiful; their utilities are a combination of propane and dodgy electricity and ancient phone lines and well water and satellite internet.

Last Saturday Obama volunteers knocked on their door.

And that, ladies and gents, is what we call a ground game.