Curtain Call on Election Day

A Boy Scout assignment forced Jimmy to accompany his parents to the election polls. Still on a chocolate high from Halloween, I was unsure whether Jimmy had civic duty in mind or even if his head was in the right place. As the three of us exited the car, I noticed something amiss.

"Wait a minute, Jimmy. Do you think wearing headphones into the polls is a good idea?"

"Why not?" he asked. He had his head in the right place all right but his ears were misbehaving. I gave him one of those parental what-is-this-world-coming to looks. I argued the point. "I don't think listening to the soundtrack to School of Rock is the national anthem to vote. Leave the headphones in the car. I want you to use your ears and your eyes to take in the experience." Maybe I reprimanded him a bit too much because he chose to follow his mother into the fire hall. They both walked ahead of me. Inside, I explained that his mother and I were standing in two separate lines to vote because we carried different last names. Marriage and politics are both complicated institutions and I don't pretend to be a professor of either. What I do know is that I love America and my wife. However, I might have an easier time remembering the third President of the United States than what I gave my wife on our third wedding anniversary.

Jimmy dutifully followed his mother into the voting booth. The curtain swung shut like a Kmart instant photo booth and all I saw were two sets of feet. My wife is very vocal about her political views so there existed no secrecy who she was voting for. With gas at $2.00 a gallon, it seemed impractical to cancel her vote and place my ties with the other party. We could have stayed home and saved gas. I would have felt comfortable telling the Boy Scouts we were preserving the environment by not putting noxious emissions in the air rather than voting For then Against.

With the nation so polarized, it seemed odd for me to be undecided all the way up to the last minute. I read the newspaper, I followed the nightly news, and endured all but one television debate and my lone absence had more to do with a debatable bout of narcolepsy than apathy. The moment of truth came, which in this 2004 campaign could be considered a misnomer. I closed my eyes, came to a momentous decision, then toggled the vote. As we left the fire hall amongst the drove of voters, I asked Jimmy what he thought about his first voting experience. "Curtains." he said in a one word summary. The more I thought about his editorial, the more it made sense. Today, it would be curtains for one presidential candidate.