On Voting

Thanks for all the well-wishes. I'm feeling a touch better today--good enough to blog at any rate. If I'm up to the task, I will drift over to your own blogs and leave you comments.
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A little over a year from now, we will FINALLY be casting ballots to elect the next President of the United States. Yes, it really is that long from now.

When it arrives we will all go down on our hands and knees.

Dear God, thank you! Thank Jesus! Thank Buddha! Thank Muhammad! Thank somebody!

Those of you who are, like me, already sick and tired of the 2008 Campaign need not worry. We only have twelve more months of this! Oy. Someone ought to coin a new adjective for this election cycle that cleverly encapsulates how sick and tired the overburdened American public are with the early deluge of hyperbole and histrionic. Which, if current opinion polls are to be trusted, is not really going to be much of a race in the first place.

I read in the British media about a week ago that the 2008 Presidential election has become a kind of "Extended Coronation of the Sun Queen." I agree.

Today I wanted to talk about the importance of voting. Please don't worry that this is going to be some of civic exercise punctuated by a film-strip and a PowerPoint presentation; I am not going to throw a lot of heaviness your way. Instead, I'd like to talk about my own experiences.

I voted for the first time when I was eighteen years old. Slipping under the wire, I barely made the cut-off date in time to be able to cast my ballot in the November general election. How excited I was! How depressingly few of my classmates had the same sense of zeal which I did! I chalked it up to another instance where I was much more in line with older adults and out of step with my peers.

Being a smart child is tough enough. By fourth grade I was reading Thoreau. I would try to explain it to my classmates and their response was often That sounds really smart, Kevin. Now I'm going to go play kickball. Being a smart teenager is worse. For whatever reason or another, adolescent coolness is attached strongly to how carefully you can casually disengage yourself from any behavior your parents might condone, or God forbid, follow. Not caring a whit about anything of substance thus becomes some badge of honor. I wish it were not so.

The only time I've seen a goodly number of people my own age bothering to even show up is for major events like the Presidential Election. The media tends to bemoan the fact that few young people bother to vote, making it almost appear as though they are the sole reason turnout is often so depressingly low. In reality, that's an BIG over-generalization. Though more older adults vote than people in the 18-30 year old demographic, there have been numerous elections where people who supposedly should know better can't be bothered to turn out either.

When I was a Unitarian, I often heard variations of this joke.

Q: What do you call a Unitarian Universalist?

A: An atheist with children.

Maybe it takes having kids of your own to feel some sort of passion for the issues. Maybe when you're raising your own family and are having to bust your ass to provide for your own hungry brood--maybe that's when you buckle down and get serious about issues that affect your life directly.

Then again, think about how many campaign issues are directed only towards older adults, usually with children. Think about how almost every campaign entertains at least one token issue that deals directly with Senior Citizens. In contrast, think about how FEW campaign issues are directed towards single adults, particularly single young adults.

I used to wonder why candidates didn't pay more attention to people my age, and then I realized that they had no reason to. If we made our voices heard and they could actually LOSE elections based on whether we turned out as a bloc, then they might pay us more than cursory lip service. Campaign money is better spent where it can direct influence voters who go to the polls versus just eligible voters in general. T hat's how I perceive of it. There are two kids of voters: those who can and those who do.

I cast my ballot every applicable Tuesday at the polling place which doubles as a Catholic Church most other days of the year. With only a few occasions, I've never had to wait more than two minutes to flash my ID, sign my name to certify I am who I say I am, collect a paper ballot, and then find a quiet place to bubble in letters just like a standardized test. Some people make up their minds when they arrive at the polls; I'm not that sort of person. I've normally decided who I'm going to vote for days, if not weeks before "the day".

In saying this, I make a point to show up for each and every election, no matter how supposedly minor it might be. If I don't vote, it's likely because I was violently ill on election day.