Adventures in Election Land

When we were walking back from voting, we ran into Jim putting out political yard signs. (Mr. M wondered if yard signs--signs you stick in your yard advertising candidates--was a local phenomenon, since he didn't remember seeing them anywhere else.) Somehow or other, Jim managed to give us one of these signs to take home and put in our yard.

I met Jim many moons ago when our mutual friend, Bob, was running for city council. Bob had run our summer swim team and had helped me in many ways when I had that job. His campaign treasurer had had to back out at sort of the last minute, so he was in a bind and asked me to step in.

I'm not a political person. I'm registered with a political party, but I don't like talking politics. My dad was a Republican and my mom was a Democrat and they never--or never that I can remember--got into political debates. Also, growing up in the Washington, D.C., area and having worked for the federal government, I'd say I'm a little politically jaundiced. The elected folks come and they go, you know? But city council is a nonpartisan election and Bob was a good guy, so I said yes.

The best thing about Bob's campaign was I volunteered to have a car sign. That's a candidate's sign that attaches with magnets to the top of your car, so you're a mobile "yard" sign.

I noticed two things about this experience:

1. I tried very hard to drive nicely--not that I don't always try to be a considerate driver...well, okay, I want to try to be a considerate driver. But with Bob's name on the top of my vehicle, I had to think of him, too. If I cut someone off in traffic, they might take it out on Bob at the polls. And how embarrassing would it be to be pulled over for speeding in the Bob-mobile?

2. At least some of my kids were still in grade school, and with the sign atop, my car was instantly identifiable in carpool line. Also, it was a great, civic way to embarrass the boys, and we know moms live to embarrass their children.

Bob was elected and served a number of two year terms, so every other year, the Bob-mobile rode again.

Voting

We voted--on Saturday, actually. This is the first year we've had the early option. It was particularly handy for the primary, as we were in London when the actual day to vote rolled around.

We read in the paper that at least one call bank connected to our political party will be downloading the list of those who have already voted and removing them from their call database. Hooray! That's one less annoying call I'll have to field. The recorded messages from candidates really get under my skin. Mr. M and I joked that we'd vote for whoever robo-called us the fewest times. (Of course we wouldn't really choose a public official on that basis...but it is tempting.) I did feel bad during the primaries when one candidate actually called in person, and I had to tell him we'd already voted. Again, not that I would have voted for him just because he called personally--I still don't like to get political calls--but he won points with me for the effort.

We also managed to bypass the folks littering the path to the polls--though I'm not sure, with the early voting, there were actually any folks electioneering--by going in a side door. I'm not a fan of running that gauntlet, unless I run into folks I know and can catch up on their lives and general neighborhood news. I guess political organizations must have some evidence that handing you literature as you're going into vote works, but I always arrive with my sample ballot filled out, knowing whom I'm going to choose.

There are fewer early voting centers, so we didn't go to our normal polling place. They seemed to have improved procedures since the primary--or we just had folks who were better with the details--because everything went smoothly and we were in and out in a timely fashion. Then we walked over to the farmers' market to pick up some produce before walking home.

So we got our exercise, voted, and bought some of the ingredients for Mr. M's next cooking adventure. All in all, not a bad morning's work.