by Gary Erdakos

I was a hippie (or is it hippy?) the last time I deeply cared about a Presidential election. My candidate didn’t live to see the election, and life went on. Thirty – some years later I’m again passionate about Election Day. However, this time it’s not an idealistic concern, but a visceral one.

I initially chalked it up to the ever increasing presence of the demographic beast – age. It seems just a short time ago that elections were only the concern of our parents.  Now I’m the parent of parents, and it’s simply the time to be a serious constituent. While standing in line at the polling place, it soon became apparent that age, sex, race etc. were represented in non-discriminate numbers.

Speaking of standing in line, I can’t remember the last time I waited more than a couple of minutes to vote. This day it was closer to 2 hours. Half way through, it occurred to me that I should have skipped that last cup of coffee. I don’t think it’s right to spend 5 hours getting in and out of race track for a 3 hour event, but somehow, in this case, the disproportionate 2 hour wait for a 2 minute activity seemed OK. ( Unless my guy loses ).

A little Chicago style politics would have made the experience more entertaining. We’re just too polite down here. Normally, I pull up close to the entrance. Today, it was find a spot anywhere – aisles, road shoulders, or on the grass ( just next to the “ Do not park on the grass “ sign. The last time I would have gone through this trouble to vote, that sign had a different meaning. After entering the lot against the “Exit – Do Not Enter “ sign, I parked on the grass – next to the sign. Just then  the State Trooper pulled up along side of me. I paused a couple of beats for his “move-along” wave. It didn’t come. He backed on to the grass and we stood in line together. Where I come from, I would have gotten a ticket and told to leave the lot. ( Unless I was on the side of “ Duh Mayor” ). Inside there was a serpentine maze of crime scene type tape and folding chairs to designate the voting line. If this were a gym in Chicago, I could imagine Bobby Knight’s antics. Nope. I was in North Carolina.

Speaking of the gym. Besides people-watching being a diversion, the basketball scoreboard  also served as a time-killer. At the time, with 1:36 left, Home was beating Visitors 15 – 11. Maybe elections should be decided by a game of horse. It would probably be just as effective. Who’s taller, has better hair, or other TV friendly attributes, has as much  an effect on the outcome of an election as anything else.

Have you ever watched the returns on TV? It’s like a sporting event where we think the score can change based on momentum, desire or the roar of the crowd. But when the tote board starts to roll on election night, there’s nothing that can be done to effect the numbers. We’re used to watching the clock and hoping for the “Hail Mary” pass or setting up the leader for the last lap pass. But alas, once the polls close, it’s over. ( Unless the Supreme Court gets involved).

I have a suggestion for speeding up the voting  process. Let’s exchange ballots with  the kids. They get to select from pictures of the candidates. We pretty much do that anyway and kids can probably make better sense of our written ballots. ( If only because they don’t need bi-focals).

In closing, George Bush’s legacy may not be the “ War President” or the “Malaprop President”. He might be the President who brought suffrage from a right and a prerogative to a compulsion and a necessity.