After years of gnashing my teeth every time there was an election and I couldn't vote; after numerous elections where I would exert all of my persuasive powers to convince husband-dear to vote my way; and after four Novembers of telling students they were squandering away their parents' and grandparents' heritage by not voting, what do you think I did yesterday, the very first election in which I was allowed to vote?
Did I postpone going to work so I could vote first thing at 7am? Did I skip dinner so I could vote after coming home from work? Did I ask for multiple "I'm a Georgia voter" stickers, so I could not only wear one, but I would also have a spare for my office door, my car, and my scrapbook? Did I walk around all day telling everyone how awesome it was that I got to vote, and hey, had they voted yet?
No. None of that.
I didn't vote.
I know. It's a disgrace. After spending a year (or more) filling out the application for naturalization, forking over close to $700, memorizing one hundred questions, and swearing to uphold and the defend the constitution at all times, I did not vote yesterday.
I am ashamed.
Well, actually, ashamed is a big word. I would say "torn" is a better description, or perhaps "slightly peeved". Or possibly "What?!" covers it best.
You see, yesterday's election was really not a big deal in our county. While in some states people were voting on whether life starts at conception, or the validity of legislation outlawing collective bargaining rights, and most Georgians got to vote on whether to allow Sunday alcohol sales, the only issue on our local ballot was whether or not to extend the SPLOST (special purpose local option sales tax). Because we don't live within city limits, there were no commissioners, mayors, or even dog catchers to vote for either, just a "yes" or "no" to the question "Do you wish to extend the splost?". So when I got home at 6:45pm last night, and had the choice between eating dinner and rushing out to our local high school to vote on whether or not an adjoining county should use our county's one penny sales tax to add on to their new middle school, I opted for dinner.
Now I realize that this possibly makes me a callous, uncaring, a-political, poor excuse for a citizen. I realize that American democracy has functioned less than perfectly because I opted to sit down to some orange glazed chicken and stir fry instead of exercising my right to vote. You are welcome to berate me through your comments, email, or even in person (if you opt for the latter, though, please bring some coffee - thanks). However, I would like to point out that, if past experience is any prediction of future behavior, I will from now on vote in every single silly election my county holds.
You see, I have only missed one election in my life prior to this one. It was in the mid-1990s, and it was one of those elections for the European parliament that you never really knew about until the day before. No one in Europe really knows what the European parliament does, except squander money, so whenever there are elections for this mysterious representative body, it's very much a deer-in-the-headlights ("What? Who? Huh?") experience. Anyway, on that day, I had early morning classes, I had to work in the afternoon, and when I drove home, I realized I had ten minutes left to vote. Or I could go home and eat dinner. I opted for dinner instead. (Pattern, anyone?).
Anyway, I felt so guilty for missing that one election, that I have made sure to vote in every single teeny-tiny election and referendum since. Did they want my opinion on whether or not rebuild a historic site on the river front? I gave my opinion. Did a European subcomittee need representatives? I voted on it. Did the Dutch government fall for the second time in a year? I went out and voted again. I have even gone through the trouble of giving the power of attorney to a friend to vote for me when I was out of the country (the Dutch version of an absentee ballot), just so I wouldn't miss the election.
So, you can bet your American behind I will vote next year. And the year after that. And after that. In fact, I am bookmarking the county board of election's website right now. I'm telling you. It's on.
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