I’ve been thinking about this ever since I head the story from the guy who does my picture framing. It’s about his wife and voting.
George’s wife is new to the country. A lovely women with an above-average intelligence. She recently got her papers and became a naturalized, American citizen. What a joy, she thought. What a gift, she said. Actually, I really don’t know what she thought or said. but I can only imagine.
So, this past Tuesday the day came for her to vote. She studied her ballot. Researched the issues and was ready to participate in a process that way-too-many-of-us take for granted. Granted, I say.
One of my sons didn’t even vote because, he justified, “it’s only the primary.” Jeez! Primary, shrimary! Voting is a privilege that mustn’t be taken for granted. Mustn’t! But it is. Everyday. Every minute. Americans don’t care about voting because, these naysayers say, there is nobody good to vote for. They’re all crooks. Liars. Cheats. Stu-pee-dose. Politicians are not worthy of taking out the garbage. They are not worthy of cleaning out outhouses. And that’s pretty low. In fact, I don’t think we even have outhouses anymore, anywhere. Maybe some place. But in any event, politicians still are not worthy. That’s something.
Politicians are in a position of voting for what we – you, me – hold dear. So, we go back to the voting, the right to exercise the pulling of the lever. The right to be free. Free, I say.
The day arrived and she went into her polling booth. Nervous. But ready. The poll workers knew this was her first time. Smiles were all around. She took her ballot and proceeded to her place of passage. She voted. She turned her ballot in, a broad smile beaming across her lovely face. This was special. No words could describe it. She was born in a country where voting was strictly verboten. Not in this county. The poll workers applauded. They all know what had just transpired. Later, pictures were taken. High-fives all around. This was a day for rejoicing.
What a special day. An American voted. Talk soon.