Tuesday, November 02, 2004
still unknown...
I got home from my writing group meeting about ten or fifteen minutes ago and I still don't know what's going on with the election. No TV yet, no news sites, just a few nebulous words in a couple of blogs I read. Words that don't fill me with hope.
Obviously this willful ignorance is my own doing. Why? Because I'm scared. And I'm nervous. Perhaps there's a part of me that thinks, "As long as I don't look, then it'll all turn out okay." Never mind that, despite my fondest wishes, I don't have that sort of power over the course of events. Part of me kind of thinks that's the case.
So I sit and I type. A nervous knot in my stomach, the cartilege around my heart constricting as it likes to do these days in times of stress. Luckily it's been diagnosed as perfect safe - if somewhat annoying - costochondritis.
I think too there's a story or two about the election that I wish to relate, but I know if I check out the returns and find things are not going the way I feel they should be going, I am not going to feel like relating these lovely stories at all. So I'll do so before I discover the results thus far:
** Proof that one is never too old, or too set in his ways, to re-evaluate:
Last week, in an IM exchange, TheFirst told me that he was going to write to his father to try to convince him not to vote for Bush. As a lifelong Republican voter in his 70s living in Florida, TheFirst's father seemed destined to think the country would be best served by keeping Bush in office.
Last night I asked TheFirst if he had gotten anywhere with his father. The answer was better than he, or I, had hoped for. His father was actually going to vote for Kerry.
So, what swayed this staunch Republican voter to the side of Kerry? TheFirst's argument that having Bush as president again would totally screw over his grandchildren. TheFirst presented cogent arguments regarding No Child Left Behind and a few other issues - which elude me now - and his father decided that his son was correct.
As I told TheFirst last night, I'm very impressed.
** This morning I arrived at my polling place (a church right down the street) around 7:15am. I had planned to be there earlier, but alas, it was not to be. As I stood in line, I thought, "This line isn't so bad." Then I remembered that the front door actually leads to a courtyard, which then leads to a large room.
Oh.
The wait turned out to be about 30 or 45 minutes, which was way longer than any wait I've had at this place in the eight years since I started voting there. But that was perfectly alright, because that meant the voters were turning out. And that is a very good thing.
As was the lovely conversation I had with an attractive, slightly older man about books and surround sound systems. Certainly started my day off on the right foot.
** And now the depression begins. While I was waiting to save this entry to draft (I've lost a number of entries after massive typing) I unwisely headed over to Chuck's and saw this.
Fuck.
I hope it's wrong. I hope there are absentee ballots still left to be counted that will make a difference. I hope that challenges are presented due to the massive voter irregularities that seemed to be occur in epidemic numbers.
I fear that is not the case.
It's time for me to turn on the TV and weep. Weep for our nation. Weep for the lives of our service men and women. Weep for the have-nots. Weep for the idiots who actually think four more years of Bush, his incomptence and the power-hungry creatures that surround him are actually a good thing.
I have nothing else to type right now. Good night.
Obviously this willful ignorance is my own doing. Why? Because I'm scared. And I'm nervous. Perhaps there's a part of me that thinks, "As long as I don't look, then it'll all turn out okay." Never mind that, despite my fondest wishes, I don't have that sort of power over the course of events. Part of me kind of thinks that's the case.
So I sit and I type. A nervous knot in my stomach, the cartilege around my heart constricting as it likes to do these days in times of stress. Luckily it's been diagnosed as perfect safe - if somewhat annoying - costochondritis.
I think too there's a story or two about the election that I wish to relate, but I know if I check out the returns and find things are not going the way I feel they should be going, I am not going to feel like relating these lovely stories at all. So I'll do so before I discover the results thus far:
** Proof that one is never too old, or too set in his ways, to re-evaluate:
Last week, in an IM exchange, TheFirst told me that he was going to write to his father to try to convince him not to vote for Bush. As a lifelong Republican voter in his 70s living in Florida, TheFirst's father seemed destined to think the country would be best served by keeping Bush in office.
Last night I asked TheFirst if he had gotten anywhere with his father. The answer was better than he, or I, had hoped for. His father was actually going to vote for Kerry.
So, what swayed this staunch Republican voter to the side of Kerry? TheFirst's argument that having Bush as president again would totally screw over his grandchildren. TheFirst presented cogent arguments regarding No Child Left Behind and a few other issues - which elude me now - and his father decided that his son was correct.
As I told TheFirst last night, I'm very impressed.
** This morning I arrived at my polling place (a church right down the street) around 7:15am. I had planned to be there earlier, but alas, it was not to be. As I stood in line, I thought, "This line isn't so bad." Then I remembered that the front door actually leads to a courtyard, which then leads to a large room.
Oh.
The wait turned out to be about 30 or 45 minutes, which was way longer than any wait I've had at this place in the eight years since I started voting there. But that was perfectly alright, because that meant the voters were turning out. And that is a very good thing.
As was the lovely conversation I had with an attractive, slightly older man about books and surround sound systems. Certainly started my day off on the right foot.
** And now the depression begins. While I was waiting to save this entry to draft (I've lost a number of entries after massive typing) I unwisely headed over to Chuck's and saw this.
Fuck.
I hope it's wrong. I hope there are absentee ballots still left to be counted that will make a difference. I hope that challenges are presented due to the massive voter irregularities that seemed to be occur in epidemic numbers.
I fear that is not the case.
It's time for me to turn on the TV and weep. Weep for our nation. Weep for the lives of our service men and women. Weep for the have-nots. Weep for the idiots who actually think four more years of Bush, his incomptence and the power-hungry creatures that surround him are actually a good thing.
I have nothing else to type right now. Good night.
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