The joy of voting

Oh frabjous day! It's E-Day in America!

Election Day has to be one of my favorite days of any year. It's all about all of the good things that America stands for: freedom, government by the people, change for the better, hope for the future.

Not that this presidential campaign reminded us of all of those things, not that some of the redistricting shenanigans of the 78th Texas Legislature (and The Hammer) gave us much confidence in those things, not that the media (so-called liberal and/or otherwise) gave us any insight into our best hope for the future of the country or the planet. Nope, not so much to be happy about there.

But sometimes I just can't help myself. In spite of all the mud and vitriol and general crap flying around, come E-Day, I am one happy person. I get to think about the people for whom I will vote. Some I know, some I only know something about, but it's always fun to mark my ballot and think: "Yes, Margaret, you're a really fine judge, and I'm proud to vote for you," or "Well, Rhett, you're a fine fellow, and, while you stand absolutely no chance of winning, I'm proud of you for standing up for my values and my interests."

See, on E-Day, we take our stand. Win or lose, we get to say what we think ought to be said about what our country ought to be and what it ought to be doing.

Of course, we can say these things on any other day. Letters to the editor, letters to elected officials, visits with those same officials, and a whole host of other fine activities. But nothing feels quite as good--to me--as marking that ballot.

I marked my first one in 1968. In that, my first campaign, I learned the sad lessons that came with a favored candidate who couldn't make it through the primaries and another who was assassinated in that fevered year of anger and division in our country. When I voted, I had to use an absentee ballot because I had moved to another state but not yet established residency. It was still important enoughto me to vote that I made that effort.

In 1972, I missed the election, because I was overseas. I read about Watergate from 8000 miles away and cried, "What's happening to my country?"

In 1976, I happily voted for Jimmy Carter, although my interest in politics was still comparatively low.

By 1980, my interest was getting higher, but I was out of the country again. At least this time, I managed to get an absentee ballot all the way in East Africa so I could participate. No late night television returns, however. I found out that Reagan had won when I walked past the USIA office and saw that Carter's picture had been removed from the front window.

Back home in 1984, I was becoming more active in politics. Not enough to get involved in campaigns, but definitely enough to be an active watcher--and happy to be able to go to the polls on E-Day. I actually enjoyed watching the convention on television.

In 1988, I was in full campaign mode, working in campaigns, making every effort to help my candidate win. It didn't much matter in the end, but it was good to watch Ferraro's acceptance speech with my mother, who was on the other end of a long distance telephone connection, and it was certainly nice to be voting for a woman on the ticket.

By 1992, my life was changing and there was a little less time for campaigns, although I still supported those that I could. It was nice to win.

In 1996, I was completely out of the campaigns. I had more family responsibilities, more work responsibilities, and less time than ever. But E-Day was still a good day to feel once more part of the vital energy of the country.

When 2000 came, I was terrified of a Bush presidency and worked as many campaigns as I could. I screamed at the television, spent hours looking at the tracking polls. I went to the polls on E-Day, carefully voting in each campaign, silently greeting each candidate with my recognition of their record or their platform. I stayed up all night afterwards, watching the back and forth in Florida, and was all but immobilized by the long drawn out aftermath of the election.

Now comes 2004. The Bush presidency has been all that I feared and worse. I voted early this time. I am somewhat sad that I won't be going to the polls today, because E-Day is such a wonderful day. I like seeing my neighbors--most of whom won't vote the same as I do--and sharing the experience of being part of the wonder that is our country. I like knowing that my neighbors and I, even though we don't see eye to eye on everything, still have the luxury of freedom to express our views and our desires--without fear that we will be harmed for doing so or that we will face harm in the aftermath.

But this year, it also seemed important to vote as a family. So My Prince and I and the grandson, who was casting his first vote, all trekked down to the early voting place and cast our ballots at the same time. We all voted the same on some things and differently on others. The grandson got a big laugh out of cancelling out my vote on a county-level issue and an even bigger laugh when he realized that Grandpa had voted the same as he did. I blew a raspberry at both of 'em--and we went off to dinner and fun. That, too, was part of the fine thing about E-Day--disagreeing on the issues but still living in harmony.

Voting has always been important to me. It has often been a joyful experience. I am worried about the outcome of this election and will no doubt be up all night, hoping against hope that it will all be over sooner rather than later. Hoping that really hard, since I'd rather lose than see the country torn apart any further than it already is.

And that's the thing that bothers me most about this election. There is always a lot at stake in an election--budgets, policies, life, death. It's always a whole lot more than signs and flags and buttons. But always, every time we vote, something else is at stake, and that is democracy itself. How we conduct ourselves in the days to come really matters, I think. Will we continue to cherish the "will of the people"? Will we respect our electoral processes and accept what they tell us about what the voters have decided? Or will we pervert the process and destroy the foundation of our nation?

Maybe voting was the really easy part. Maybe democracy is what's really hard.