Blake Delaney wants to get his hernia treated, but he can't afford the $6,000 (U.S.) deductible on his health-insurance plan. Besides, the 49-year-old can't take the time away from running his business, a coffee shop and record store in the centre of this Iowa college town. It's a shoestring operation in its second year, and he struggles to keep it afloat.
It bothers him that he has to make this sort of decision – his health or his business – in a country where the rich keep getting richer.
"It's not a level playing field," he says, resting a tattooed arm on the counter of his shop as the Smiths play through overhead speakers. "It really scares me to think about what could happen. We should be able to afford to keep ourselves healthy."
Mr. Delaney is not usually interested in politics, he says, but he plans to go to caucus on Monday so he can support Bernie Sanders, whose promise of higher taxes on big corporations and universal health care are resonating strongly with him.
Welcome to Ames, a town of 60,000 best known as the home of Iowa State University. You may also recognize it, more recently, as the site of Sarah Palin's singsong endorsement of Donald Trump. But I'm not here to cover the circus of the campaign trail. Instead, I dropped in to find out what's on the minds of ordinary Iowans as they get set to kick off the marathon process of nominating a presidential candidate on Monday.
Find out how these Iowans plan to vote
Health care comes up often. So does government spending. Some people fret about terrorism and America's place in the world in the face of a seemingly never-ending war in the Middle East.
The most pervasive theme is pessimism – that, in the face of the political gridlock in Washington, anything can change, and an abiding sense that, no matter who gets in, they will have a hard time getting their agenda through.
It's an opinion readily proffered by Cheryl Gleason, the slender, bespectacled proprietor of a vintage clothing store. She'd like to see better access to postsecondary education, but she's skeptical the overburdened federal treasury can afford the free tuition promised by the likes of Mr. Sanders. She's concerned about terrorism, but isn't sure it's a winnable battle.
A Republican, she has followed the race closely but has not yet decided who to go to caucus for. Frankly, she says, no candidate has much inspired her.
"I don't like how all the candidates attack each other instead of saying what they stand for," Ms. Gleason, 59, says of the crowded shout-fests that have characterized this year's GOP debates. "And how do they keep their promises in a broken system?"
Kate Bell, 24, buying clothes at Ms. Gleason's store for a theatre production, is particularly put off by the intolerance that underlies many of the Republican candidates' campaigns. None of them, for instance, seem to take racially motivated police shootings seriously, she says.
And, of course, there is Mr. Trump, who rails against Mexican immigrants and Muslims, and picked a fight with Fox News host Megyn Kelly for calling out his disparaging comments about women.
"He goes after anyone who doesn't happen to be a rich, white male," Ms. Bell says.
Buttons referring to Republican Presidential candidate Donald Trump’s immigration policies for sale outside a Trump Rally in Marshalltown, Iowa.
JIM WATSON/AFP/Getty Images
A few doors down, at the Tres Teal clothing store, President Barack Obama's health-care reforms are fuelling a vigorous discussion.
Donna Hendrick, 64, contends Obamacare is holding the economy back by forcing businesses to pay for insurance for their employees. "I feel bad for the people who've lost their jobs because their company can't afford it," says the tall, fur coat-clad retiree.
From behind the counter, Bev Larsen responds that repealing the Affordable Care Act would drive up costs for people like her. Ms. Larsen has high blood pressure and asthma, and benefits from the law's prohibition on insurance companies taking such pre-existing medical conditions into account when calculating premiums.
"Some companies would say: 'We'll cover you, but not for your chronic conditions.' They wouldn't insure you for the things you need it for," says the 64-year-old.
Over on the sprawling Iowa State campus, Mica Rodriguez is determined to vote to keep Mr. Trump and his anti-immigrant policies out of office. For Mr. Rodriguez, whose father was born in the Dominican Republic, it's personal.
"The way he talks about other ethnicities, it's incredibly offensive. This whole country was built on immigration," says Mr. Rodriguez, 19, a mechanical engineering major with a quick smile and a head of curly black hair. "I'm definitely voting. This election is so important."
Democratic presidential candidate Bernie Sanders speaks during a campaign event as actress Susan Sarandon listens at Music Man Square in Mason City, Iowa.
CHRIS CARLSON/AP
He likes Mr. Sanders's promise of free university – as an out-of-state student from Colorado, Mr. Rodriguez is on the hook for $20,000 annually – as well as his pledge to tackle climate change. But he's not convinced the Vermont Senator is tough enough to fight the Islamic State or hold the line on Iran. Jeb Bush, he says, projects more commander-in-chief competence.
Kaitlin Tomlinson, 20, plans to switch her registration from Republican to Democrat to go to caucus for Mr. Sanders. The criminal justice major works 4 a.m. shifts in the campus kitchen to help pay for her studies, but still had to take out student loans to cover her $8,000 annual tuition.
"It's hard to pay; people are poor. Hopefully we can finally get someone to change that," she says.
As an early winter dusk falls on Main Street, barber Rick Butler and city maintenance worker John Forth stand chatting in Mr. Butler's shop.
A friendly man with a head of neatly combed grey hair and a trim mustache, Mr. Butler worries that the ballooning national debt threatens the future of social security, just as he starts turning his thoughts to retirement.
"If you didn't have that huge debt, and the cost of servicing it, what other things could you spend that money on? At some point, somebody is going to say 'Where is this money going to come from? What do we cut?'" the 64-year-old says.
While Mr. Butler leans Republican, he has voted for both parties over the years. In 2008, he cast his ballot for Barack Obama. But four years later, with the economy still on the rocks and that national debt only larger, he went for Mitt Romney.
Mr. Forth interjects: "I'm totally happy with Obama – I voted for him twice. He did health care and he tried to get us out of the war."
Mr. Butler, for his part, plans to go to a Republican caucus, but he's undecided on who to support. Not that he's had any shortage of people trying to win his vote: while he and Mr. Forth chat, ad after ad flicks by on the TV in the corner of his shop.
As he turns off the neon sign in the window and gets ready to close up, Mr. Butler sounds more than a little weary of the whole exercise.
"The campaigning starts two years before the election here. I bet I get 30 calls a day from one party or the other. I tell them 'I'm trying to run a business, I don't have time for that.' They're relentless," he says. "I would love to not be first in the nation. I would love if it were anybody else."