One voice at a time

~~~

Nothing about this morning's voting experience felt Federal. A light dusting of snow on the windshield whisped away with the first breeze from forward motion, as exhalations overpowered the hypothermic defroster in the cabin of the F150.

At the elementary school gym where neighborhood kids play four-square and crab race, four kindly older folks were sporting quilted winter coats as they settled in to the places where they would stay for the next thirteen hours. The women had hair that had been teased so much that it was pondering violent revenge.

It was 5:59 am, and they were all business. Upon entering the gym, one gave orders to stand on the painted basketball sideline as she rearranged papers on a folding table. The woman beside her was nervously prattling-on that she had missed the orientation and oh my gracious the reality of it all might be too much. The third woman announced that the polls were not yet open. She then asked the time. Someone said, "uhhh six o'clock". At this, she marched out the gym doors and into the gelid pre-dawn snow and declared to the emptiness, "THE POLLS ARE NOW OFFICIALLY OPEN." Clearly, she was the Alpha.

At the table, Miss Orientation took charge. "Will you be voting Democratic or Republican?"

In Virginia, one does not have to vote according to one's declared party."It doesn't seem terribly secret-ballot-like to have to tell you and then stand in one line or the other. What if the neighbors see? They love to talk."



Alpha was now standing beside the table, simultaneously looking unamused and laughing forcibly, like a professor who had just been called-out by a student on a historical inconsistency. She started to cite Virginia voting procedural law just as Missed Orientation chimed in with, "Don't get me started on that! I said to Nancy that I couldn't believe how they decided to do that ... "

Having barged-in too early and now confronting The System, they all knew that they were dealing with a rabble rouser; a gadfly; a ne'er do-well; what my fifth grade teacher used to call a "comodian who needed to be flushed".

Miss Orientation took my ID and found my name listed on the roster. She penned the number 1 in the right hand column. Number one customer.

"FIRST! w00t!" My exclamation was as pertinent as wingtips at a swimming pool. A change of topic was desperately needed. "Where is your coffee? How are you going to get through this without coffee?" Miss Orientation smiled politely and handed over a slip of paper that said "DEMOCRATIC". They might as well singe it on peoples' foreheads.

Next came a kindly gentleman who took the slip of paper and directed me to one of three booths. The electronic touchscreen had a list of names:



Barack Obama

Dennis J. Kucinich

Hillary Clinton

Bill Richardson

Joe Biden

John Edwards

One poke of the finger: Barack Obama. A second poke of the finger on the lit-up, 3D, red button, "VOTE", and it was done. The kindly gentleman said, "They don't give us any stickers for primary elections, but thanks for coming," and he extended a handshake to a neighbor patriot.

It was still early enough to pick up a Box o' Joe and a Bagga Holes. On the way back to the gymnasium, paranoia started to take hold. "They're going to think these are poisoned or they're some kind of bribe ..." The gym was bereft of voters. Upon presenting this small thank-you, the four volunteers were all smiles. Alpha actually hugged me. With both arms. I love my country.

~~~