The world changes quickly, and as I get older, I start to feel the current move faster than I am. Slowly, inexorably, I’m being left behind. This is something I work hard against; I try to keep current, but I never was “edgy” or “cool” and I sure as hell don’t expect to start now. I suppose this makes me a member of the Curmudgeon Party. I’m pretty happy over here. I can rant and rave, piss and moan, and no one is surprised when I do it. So, don’t be surprised. I’m going to do it again.
Last night—on an October night—I voted in a general election. My wife and I sat in the living room, discussed each of the initiatives and reviewed the candidates, colored the little bubbles on our computer-ready form, and stuck them in envelopes to go out in the morning’s post. Washington State now has a wholly mail-in election system.
And I hated it.
Sure, it’s cheaper, it’s more efficient. And push me up against the wall and put a shiv to my face, I’m going to admit I prefer a mail-in ballot to any sort of electronic “voting machine.” But I hate it. I hate it, because of what we lost in the switch.
We lost Election Day.
Election Day was something big. It was the day the entire nation got up en masse and did their civic duty. As a group (about a third of us, anyway), we went to the polling place and ticked a box for the candidate of our choice.
Election Day was something small, too. It was local. We went to the basement at a local church, and sought our precinct number on the signs. We saw our neighbors. We signed a physical ledger. We chatted. We got our ballots, took them to the booth, and punched our chads. We got our button or our sticker that proclaimed, “I Voted!” The place had a solemnity to it on Election Day, a reverence that had nothing to do with its regular use. But the place was also charged with a low-level excitement. We were being citizens. Together. We were voting. We were participating.
Election Night was a night for parties, gatherings, with champagne for the winners and whisky for the losers. It was a night of anticipation, of highs and lows. It was dramatic, and it was exciting. We would put the news on the TV, and watch Tim Russert draw on his white board (or see what goofy techno-whiz gadget CNN decided to try out), and we’d watch the electoral votes stack up. We’d cheer or wail as each state was called.
We were watching history play out. We were watching as a nation of millions went to the polls and voted. We experienced it in real-time, like a slow-moving wave crossing the country, as polls closed and precincts reported in.
Now, we vote a week, sometimes two weeks in advance. For those who mail their ballots in on the last day, their votes can come in days after the election. The process is attenuated, thinned, diluted, devalued.
I try to keep up with the times, but I don’t have to like it.
So long, Election Night. It was nice while it lasted.
k
[…] election night in Seattle has lost some of its charm, we do get some immediate payoff during a general election. Washington is always a foregone […]
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I feel the same way. In Georgia, they are encouraging early voting but I refuse. I’m going to march in there on the 6th and probably be the only person under 70 voting, but I’ll be there.
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You go, girl! Enjoy it while it lasts. I fear we’re all going the way of the mail-in ballot. k
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