I love being in [the voting booth] . I drag it out, leisurely punching the names I want as if sipping whiskey in front of a fire. I mean, how many times in a life does an average person get to make history?
I exercised my 19th amendment rights by running down to the county clerk's office on Saturday to participate in early voting. I got there about an hour after the polls open and took my place at the end of a decently long line. It was about the length of the MVD line or the Southwest counter at the Sunport. A lot of people standing around in comfortable clothes and battered athletic shoes, waiting to trudge forward a foot.
Sometimes I think standing in a long line for voting is one of the best parts of the process. It's a clutch of people -- red or blue or d or r or i -- waiting to participate in a cornerstone of our fantastic nation. There isn't arguing or shouting or shoving, it's just a collection of polite strangers waiting their turn. The not-quite-huddled masses, yearning to breathe free, but until then, they are quite content to chat about the gifted program at Jefferson Middle School, vacuum cleaners, sump pumps and gardening with the people just ahead of them in line.
But speaking of the breathing free, we were waiting in a low-ceiling'd, clausterphobic hallway in the city county building, and there was a lack of air conditioning. It was a little stiffling, a touch ripe, but nothing overwhelming. When I was in the middle of the line, a woman in her mid-twenties came down the hall, wrinkled her nose and said to the dude she was with, "It fucking smells. Let's just go. I don't need to vote."
(Pity.)
Still, I liked the original assessment. Democracy is smelly. Even apart from the voting machine scandals, the hanging chads, the inappropriate e-mails to underage pages, democracy is messy. It's arguing and debating and compromising and going straight into that voting booth and saying, "God, I have to vote for one of them?"
(Okay, no, that's actually not true. I'm in the third congressional district, so it's totally Udall FTW!)
I took my sweet time, filling in the ovals, reading all of the bond questions, filling in more ovals, checking my crib sheet and filling in more ovals. It was an awesome flashback to the ACTs.
There was a overwhelming sense of satisfaction when I was finished. There's always a sense of satisfaction, but this one was tempered with a touch of nerves when I fed my paper ballot into the optical scanner. Will it read it? Will my vote be counted? WILL I GET TO VOTE AGAIN?
It went through. My vote was accepted (we have photographic evidence), and I left feeling fan-friggin'-tastic! Not only because I voted, but because I voted at the county clerk's office and there's a 95% chance that my vote will be counted! How can they lose it? It's the county clerk's office! Wooo! USA! USA! USA!
Now I just have to survive tomorrow's news cycle and we'll be right back to where we are, only it'll be primary season for 2008.
Ooof.
(Photos at Flickr because it's all so exciting and photogenic.)
-- Sarah Vowell, "Dear Dead Congressman"
Partly Cloudy Patriot
Partly Cloudy Patriot
I exercised my 19th amendment rights by running down to the county clerk's office on Saturday to participate in early voting. I got there about an hour after the polls open and took my place at the end of a decently long line. It was about the length of the MVD line or the Southwest counter at the Sunport. A lot of people standing around in comfortable clothes and battered athletic shoes, waiting to trudge forward a foot.
Sometimes I think standing in a long line for voting is one of the best parts of the process. It's a clutch of people -- red or blue or d or r or i -- waiting to participate in a cornerstone of our fantastic nation. There isn't arguing or shouting or shoving, it's just a collection of polite strangers waiting their turn. The not-quite-huddled masses, yearning to breathe free, but until then, they are quite content to chat about the gifted program at Jefferson Middle School, vacuum cleaners, sump pumps and gardening with the people just ahead of them in line.
But speaking of the breathing free, we were waiting in a low-ceiling'd, clausterphobic hallway in the city county building, and there was a lack of air conditioning. It was a little stiffling, a touch ripe, but nothing overwhelming. When I was in the middle of the line, a woman in her mid-twenties came down the hall, wrinkled her nose and said to the dude she was with, "It fucking smells. Let's just go. I don't need to vote."
(Pity.)
Still, I liked the original assessment. Democracy is smelly. Even apart from the voting machine scandals, the hanging chads, the inappropriate e-mails to underage pages, democracy is messy. It's arguing and debating and compromising and going straight into that voting booth and saying, "God, I have to vote for one of them?"
(Okay, no, that's actually not true. I'm in the third congressional district, so it's totally Udall FTW!)
I took my sweet time, filling in the ovals, reading all of the bond questions, filling in more ovals, checking my crib sheet and filling in more ovals. It was an awesome flashback to the ACTs.
There was a overwhelming sense of satisfaction when I was finished. There's always a sense of satisfaction, but this one was tempered with a touch of nerves when I fed my paper ballot into the optical scanner. Will it read it? Will my vote be counted? WILL I GET TO VOTE AGAIN?
It went through. My vote was accepted (we have photographic evidence), and I left feeling fan-friggin'-tastic! Not only because I voted, but because I voted at the county clerk's office and there's a 95% chance that my vote will be counted! How can they lose it? It's the county clerk's office! Wooo! USA! USA! USA!
Now I just have to survive tomorrow's news cycle and we'll be right back to where we are, only it'll be primary season for 2008.
Ooof.
(Photos at Flickr because it's all so exciting and photogenic.)
Labels: voting
