I was so wrapped up in boasting about my own voting yesterday, that I forgot to mention something election-related that happened at the bike shop post office this week.
On Monday, the day before election day, a fit, mussed, fortyish looking guy, wearing a plain white undershirt and a pair of blue pajama bottoms-- flannel, large plaid-- came up to the desk waving the yellow envelope that held his early ballot. He wanted to drop it in the mail. Not so unusual, people had been dropping them off for a couple of weeks.
But, since the deadline for mailing the early ballots had fallen on the previous Thursday, I thought I would be helpful and let pajama guy know that, for his ballot to count, he would need to drop it off at a polling place. He was not the first citizen to have missed or simply ignored the deadline printed in red capital letters on the envelope. I had already let a couple of people know they would have to drop their ballots off in person. They had thanked me.
"Where is one by here?" he asked, giving me the impression that maybe he didn't know what a polling place was.
"At the high school gym, over on 82nd, or the middle school, off Granite Reef," I answered. He still looked a little mystified about the fact that his ballot couldn't just be dropped off in the mail slot. He looked annoyed that I had stopped him, actually. He just wanted to drop off the ballot and be done.
He took a big breath, and sighed, and said, "OK, I guess I can go by there now."
"No," I said, "there's no voting today, so you have to wait until tomorrow."
"Why?"
Seriously, he asked me why he had to wait for Election Day for the polls to be open.
"They only have one Election Day, so no one's there for that now," I explained.
"I can't just drop it off there? Won't they take it?" He was really annoyed now, wishing he'd never come in. He could have dropped the yellow envelope into the mailbox in the parking lot and avoided this confrontational woman trying to keep him from voting...
"There's only voting on Election Day," I repeated, as though that would clarify things.
"They only do it one day?" He looked disgusted, really miffed, as though something about having only one day to vote was deeply unfair.
"Yeah," I said, and because I couldn't help myself, I added, "that's why they call it Election Day."
I don't think I was dripping sarcasm, exuding it maybe, but not dripping, for sure.
He turned and shuffled away in his slippers, shaking his head about the stupidity of it all.
I know now, from the results of the election, that he probably did get to have his vote counted.
From the ice cream mogul my state has elected as the next governor to the evasively inarticulate gal we've selected to be our state superintendent of schools, to the prison lobbyist who will be serving as attorney general, the results are pretty disappointing from where I sit. The current governor, Jan Brewer, beamed and fluttered her false eyelashes on every local newscast as the election returns came in last night. The gal who rose to national fame thanks to the viral image in which she popped her gum and wagged her finger in the face of the President, is apparently happy about the prospect of a slate of state officials who will ensure that Arizona will never escape her legacy of governmental buffoonery.
On the upside, my town finally voted for a budget override that will put some money back into education. I'm going to take that as a victory, and try to ignore the rest for the next few years...
Full disclosure: I confess to a nagging sense of judgement about the whole early voting thing. I get absentee ballots-- you're out of the country, the state, what have you, you don't want to be disenfranchised-- but early voting when you're right here in town? You can't take a couple of minutes to go to the polls on the same day as everyone else? I'm sure there are good reasons for sending in an early ballot, so I know my judgey attitude is illogical, but still, come on, really?
Yes, I voted today.
I wish I could say it was a show of my optimism and deep belief in democracy. Unfortunately, as I get older, it's a more curmudgeonly urge that gets me to the polls. I have a vague, but persistent notion that I forfeit my right to complain about the foibles and mishaps of the local and federal governments if I don't at least do my minimal civic duty to participate in the process. And I like to complain, I really do, so I put on my sweater and made my way to my polling place at the local high school gym this morning.
In this election, as in the last, school funding was my pet issue. Though I live in a community which has a lot of children who attend public schools, the voting population seems be comprised of single young adults and retirees who shudder at the thought of their tax dollars being allocated to the education of future tax payers. I say those retirees may be well out of it, but those young singles better be planning to move somewhere else when they need to get expert medical help in twenty years. I voted for school funding because, at this rate, our children will go back to doing their figuring on slates that they bring to school themselves for the few hours it can be held open, given budget constraints. This year, one day a week has been shortened and music and art have been slashed because funding can't be found.
Seriously, if I wanted my children to be philistines with extra free time, I would home school them.
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Of course, there were major races for governor, attorney general, senate and house seats, etc. I had some strong ideas about these, and voted accordingly. But there was also the whole back side of the ballot, which I confess I almost missed. It was a list of judges, with the question of whether each of them should be retained. It must have been over twenty people I'd never heard of and had no opinion about. I know that displays a deplorably casual attitude about civic affairs, but honestly, if I'm not arguing a case in front of them, or waiting for them to hand down my sentence, how can I really know whether any particular judge should be retained? Oh I know, I could research their judicial records, but for that many judges, I would have had to start reading before they were even put on the ballot. That just seems excessive. Since I hadn't done the research, I skipped it. Being a lazy voter is one thing, but actually making uninformed choices just felt wrong.
I think that yawning list was strategic though, because at the end of it, there was a little proposition asking whether we should increase legislative pay... Yeah it was buried under all those judges. Had I actually marked all of those lines yes, I could have easily rolled right along and done the same with this proposition and voted a pay raise for people I've been complaining about since I voted in the last election. Oy!
I must say I'm looking forward to the return of ads for low cost accident lawyers, pay day loans, and heating and cooling specialists, now that the election has passed, but that's likely to be the biggest immediate benefit. I fear that the election will not really go my way, my vote notwithstanding. But believe me, tomorrow and every day until the next election, I will be exercising the right I earned to complain, because hey, I didn't vote for this!
