The Long Run
Did anyone else seem a little extra tired this morning? Not like, I needed more sleep tired; like emotionally exhausted. Like a toll had been taken on you mentally that was just too much to bare anymore. This is the American psyche today, November 8, 2016. It's finally here, and soon to be over. Election Day. This election has essentially been 18 months long. A year and a half. Two pregnancies. Three hockey seasons. All leading up to today.
I woke up with a sense or urgency. Gotta read the polls. Gotta crunch the numbers. What swing states end at what times? Who is likely to flip? What planet is Florida going to drop in from today? This is the NATIONAL ELECTION PEOPLE. THE FUTURE OF OUR COUNTRY IS ALL HANGING IN THE BALANCE OF PENNSYLVANIA SWING VOTERS. DON'T YOU GET IT?!I contemplated staying home this time around; you know, employ the old George Carlin method to voting: don't (you know how much I love me some Carlin). When my company sent an email about scheduling with your supervisor to show up late or leave early so you could vote, I mentioned this to my boss. He replied with "I will give you an extra day off if you go vote." That's how strongly he feels about it. I didn't take the day, as I just took 2.5 weeks off for my wedding and honeymoon; but I did text him to let him know I'd be a bit late so I could go to the polls in the morning.
I've voted in the same place for 14 years. Home town. Small town. The voting stations on Election Day are always a weird experience. Walking in, I hold the door for a woman who is walking out. I actually had to stop and back up to make sure it stayed open for her. She doesn't thank me; instead, she gives a semi-heartfelt, semi-lackluster "Good luck." As if I'm going in for surgery. Imagine that, I held the door for her, and she gave a response that usually warrants a "Thank You" in itself. I wonder who she voted for. Inside, everyone is quiet; quite serious indeed.
It almost feels intentional that the people who check your name registration are hard of hearing, as voters feel the need to whisper their names in that moment. Not only do you have to spell it for them, you have to shout the spelling. I saw an old co-worker from 15 years ago I used to work with at the town pharmacy. Behind me in line were the people who live two doors down from my mother's house, and the lady across the street was checking last names starting Q-Z. Directly behind me is a father holding a very young daughter. He asks for an "I Voted" sticker for her, which is hilarious on it's own. Then he asks for a second one to give her brother who is at home. As he grabs it, he drops it, and I pick it up for him. He says thank you, then turns to his daughter and says that they are voting for pizza. She looks at me as if for approval, and I give her an excited "Pizza partyyy!" She cracks and smiles, and he says to me "Pizza would probably do a better job than these two." On this, we can definitely agree.
An old high school buddy who runs the fire department where the voting booths are held walks in to cast his ballot. This puts a smirk on my face. Politically, we are polar opposites. I know this because of... well, because of Facebook and Facebook alone (the great unifier, a way to reach millions of people; and also piss off millions of people off). Remember the days when you didn't talk about who you were voting for? Do you REALLY remember them though? Because if you turned 18 when Facebook was around, I'm not sure you do. I can't help but think of the old Chappelle bit he used to do on voting. "Dave! Dave! Come on with the voting! I'm trying to tell you about f@*#!ing my wife in the @$$ and you're asking me all these personal questions!" I think the bit was centered around white people, but you get the gist. It's a thing of the past. Now, not only do people tell you, they are proud to tell you, they judge you if you don't agree with them, and try to get you to switch sides. We can't agree on facts anymore; my side is right, so my facts are right. Your side is wrong, so you're evil. And retarded.
I contemplate making a light-hearted joke to lighten the mood. "You going with the chicken or the fish?" or "I don't wanna see any tampering when I get out of there!" I'm sure there's a joke to be made about us canceling each other's votes out, too. I opt against it out of respect for the other people there, the workers who take it seriously, and the process in general. After he registers, he comes over and shakes my hand to congratulate me on my recent nuptial. He's not evil. He's not retarded. He's a stand up guy. He has 2 kids; I highly doubt he wants to purposely send the country down the shitter just to prove a point. We just disagree. And today is the day we get to express that disagreement respectfully. 364 days out of the year we can bicker on social media until our fingers turn blue, but today, it's all about that little red button. I enter the booth, cast my ballot, click submit, and hear a sound that sounds ironically like getting an extra life in early video games.
And just like that... it's over. EIGHTEEN months worth of campaigning is over. Two children's worth of political banter is finally, finally over. In and out in 10 eye-opening minutes that I've done countless times before. As I get outside, it's sunny, 50 degrees (surprisingly warm for a New Jersey November morning), and somehow the air feels lighter. No sooner do I turn the car on to go to work that the opening drums and riff for The Long Run by The Eagles starts playing. This turns my smirk to a full on smile.
I used to hurry a lot, I used to worry a lot
I used to stay out till the break of day
A part of me, and definitely the old me, would have reveled in the extreme chaos that this election has been. Everyone loves a car wreck right? At the very least, you can't turn away. But this has been so much worse. The national conversation isn't even a shouting match anymore. We are one step above monkeys throwing shit at each other. We cannot stand being wrong, so everyone is just always right. It's great, isn't it?
We can handle some resistance
If our love is a strong one
People lose friends over this stuff. It's that easy when a friendship can be deleted in one simple click. Everything has a new definition now. Friends. Facts. Truths. I used to enjoy political debate and going back and forth with "the other side." Not anymore. It's tiring. People don't respond to thoughts, they reply to comments.
People talkin' about us
they got nothin' else to do
When it all comes down we will
still come through
But my experience today, it gave me hope. In person, people are different. When you are among your community, among other citizens, you have to be gracious. Respectful. Kind. A vote is a method of thinking. It's a mindset. It's an entire way of life. But at the end of the day, it's still just a different button push. Whether my button was on the left or the right in that booth means nothing once I exit it. Inside the booth, you're by yourself, but when you get out, you're still in your town, still in your state, still in this country, still surrounded by your peers. I disagree with a good majority of my friends on political issues, and that's okay. In fact, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Who is gonna make it?
We'll find out in the long run
I know we can take it
if our love is a strong one
I'm not going to tell you who I voted for. I'm still old school that way I guess. But I will say this: America is already pretty fucking great. Don't let anyone tell you different. Today is Election Day, where one side will "win" and one side will "lose". I'm not worried about today. Let's focus on tomorrow.
Well, we're scared, but we ain't shakin'
Kinda bent, but we ain't breakin'
in the long run
