the pelican

once more with feeling

election day

yep i voted first thing morning.

just plain feels good.

had lots of options for early voting, but i like to do it at my regular place and time.  a traditionalist perhaps. see my neighbors. i like the little elementary school library with the tiny desks and low shelves of books. i like the pictures of masks the kids made tacked to the walls. the smell of crayons and soap and pencils. i just like it.

today we had a choice. paper or machine.

overwhelmingly the choice was paper.

kind of sad maybe, but true. we need to feel there is something tangible. discoverable. that paper trail. we need to feel secure again. we need to feel that our vote counts. lost a little faith there maybe.

there is a tremendous amount of trust necessary to even bother to vote.

so easy, so simple to just decide that one vote doesn't count. no effort involved there. it will happen without my participation. no need to bother. takes time. requires reading. doesn't mean anything, right?

well, we'll see if it does. we'll see.

working at the pledge drive for public radio, several people were talking about how everyone pretty much feels the election was stolen in 2000, determined without a full and accurate count, and that it had probably happened again in 2004. like it's a done deal. it's practically accepted. something is so wrong about this it's almost too frightening to consider.

and yet, we still bother to vote again. we have to. we must. essentially, we just plain want to.

and it doesn't help us to go on and on about our doubt in the process because that only feeds the doubt and fewer people will bother to vote as a result.

the whole thing is quite precarious.

because it's an honor system.

because it's a matter of faith.

we have to believe. despite various evidence to the contrary, we still have to operate as though our vote counts. that we will be heard. that we have a voice. that we have participated. and that we are free to do this. that we have exercised this right.

we may not get the result we wanted, but we made the effort. we had our say.

because it is a beautiful thing.

this leap of faith.

this leap into the belief that this matters. that this has meaning. that this counts for something.

faith that we are all in this thing together. that people are basically good. that we may disagree but we can agree to disagree. that we have an opportunity to make a difference. that there is a reason to try.

faith that truth will out.

faith that the people have a voice.

and so anyway.

anyway. anyway.

anyway this morning i got a bit misty-eyed you know. got that catch in my throat thing. yeah i got all caught up in the sentimentality of my leap of faith in the process. i said paper! yes i did. and i filled in my little blocks with a borrowed pen. i used my cheat sheet of course. it's ok it's ok. you can bring materials. it's an open book sort of deal. i had my notes you know. my little scribbles on a sample ballot i had printed out.

the hard part is all the referendums and amendments and initiatives. these things are so hard to understand sometimes. no wonder so few people bother to vote. requires a little research. a little study. got to try to dissect the logic out of the blob of confusing committee written legalese hoo-hah. sometimes you think you agree and then there's this clause, this bit of dangling stuff and you think, well . . if it's this difficult to understand, if it takes this much effort to make sense out of it and it seems to contradict itself and if i need to ask one of the attorneys at work to sort it out for me and he has to read and re-read it to make sure he's got it, i'm thinking . . . nope. don't need that. whatever it is. it's too tricky. so that's a big fat no.

and so. it takes a little effort. it's a big responsibility. it has implications. ramifications.

ripple effects.

yeah and so i got misty eyed. well you know i'm wide open in the morning. just awake. it's why i like the drive into work to gaze at the sun rise shining on the flatirons. wide open to let the beauty in. wide open to feel the sky and smell the trees and watch the hawks and feel thankful for another fresh new day ahead.

and maybe we don't get everything we want. maybe we can't all have our way. maybe things will change for the better. maybe things are too big. too out of control.

but maybe it just matters that we try anyway.

and when i filled in all my boxes on my paper ballot, i walked up to the officials to turn it in and they all said thank you -- thank you for voting. and i said thank you! thank you for all that you're doing. your volunteer work. *gulp* and that's when it got me.

that jerky little seizure of emotion.

heart in throat.

it was the feeling that we all just shared in the faith that we've all done the right thing.

no doubt we all voted differently here and there. some in big ways, some in lesser. but we all did our piece. we all took part in something.

something that requires cooperation. honesty. honor. conscience. awareness. care.

something we do individually that we can only do together.

the realization of an ideal.

it was it was it was . . . . well, if you do it, if you vote, you know. you just know.

yeah and so i started to cry. so corny i guess. ok i was embarassed. and they could see it. and so i laughed. and they laughed. we all laughed. and i smiled and wiped away a tear and they smiled back and we all knew.

we just knew.

there was nothing else to say.

posted by: limine at 11:35 | link | comments (5) |

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