Election Day

I love Election Day. There is just something about walking through the crunchy leaves on a crisp fall day going to add my voice to the multitudes practicing their rights and responsibilities of being a citizen of this country. It’s like the proverbial first day of school feeling, without the new backpack.

I got in line to vote at about 6:40 this morning. They let us in the building (to roast) at about 6:50. There was a greeter, checking whether we were pre-registered and giving forms to those who needed to register on site. I picked up my ballot and the PaperMate ballpoint pen (seriously, can’t we get felt tips?*), and filled in the ovals completely, very glad I’d done my research and brought my list with me. There was one Soil & Water Supervisor candidate whose position statement was a rant against same sex marriage. This is why I do my homework for all the races. My ballot was number 58 into the scanner at my precinct. As I walked up the stairs, I was putting my “I Voted” sticker on the strap of my purse, just above my “Registered Voter” button. A woman asked, “Feel better now?” I replied “Yes, I do!” The person in line with her asked if we were neighbors. No. “Oh, Friends?” I’d never seen her before. “New friends?” I suppose so. I headed to work full of hope.

This afternoon, I spent four hours knocking on doors in a Southwestern suburb. We had a targeted list, but the folks who were home represented a mixed bag. We had a couple of people almost hug us and thank us for walking our feet off. We had some simply tell us they'd already voted, but "sorry, we're on the other team." At one house where we had the wife's name on our list, the husband said he'd voted for the Republican line-up, but suspected his wife was at the poll voting for Obama; she just didn't want to tell him. At another house, the husband said some really hateful things about Franken and Obama. I made a note on our sheets that it was a scary place, hoping the next pass of canvassers will spared the vitriol. I headed home exhausted. I still have a lot of hope for Obama. I'm really worried about Franken, but I've done what I can do. I've posted here (to you my loyal 2(?) local readers), I've knocked on doors in a hostile land**, and I VOTED!

Now, I'm off to a Knitter's house to eat pizza, drink beer and/or champagne, and watch the returns roll in. (Oh yeah, and knit because EZ admonished us to knit at times like these - all times.) Here's hoping we awake to a blue-ish purple map in the morning, to one America united for positive change.

Peace.


* I heard on the radio this afternoon that the preferred pen for our ballots is, in fact, a black felt-tip. Next year, I'm taking my own.
** My "I Voted" sticker fell off somewhere along the GOTV route. Sigh.