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My Polling Place

I would like to point out that what I am about to say is next to meaningless, but I found it interesting anyway. This morning I was voter number 247. The guy handing out "I voted" stickers and explaining how to push ballots into the scanner said, "Last time we only had 220 votes all day long." Again, I know exactly how meaningless this is when it comes to "who will win" or "how it is decided" or even "what ice cream should I have after supper." But it makes me feel just a tiny bit like I'm a voter for a reason, that I contributed this morning to something like freedom. To the process. To the election of a president. To the decisions being made in my neighborhood as well as across the country. To what taxes I will accept or decline. To which people I prefer making decision about justice and accountability. So here's to the process. Here's to voting with your heart and mind. Here's to running your vote up the flagpole. Here's to counting yourself American. Not Republican or Democrat. Not Conservative or Liberal. But American. I voted. And dammit, it felt good to do so. End of speech.

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