It wasn't till I met my husband that I began to think that I should actually vote. Politics were never a big thing in the family I grew up in. That suited me just fine because, to be honest, I hate politics. The attitude that my vote wouldn't make a difference and that fate would ensure that the "right" candidate would be chosen was my prevailing attitude. "I'll pray about it," my Dad said this morning, stating that a non-informed vote might be worse than not casting a ballot at all. Perhaps.
But I vote now. I've done my homework. My attitude is changing. I think it's my responsibility. Besides, how can I reserve the right to complain if I didn't participate in the first place? I always need to reserve the right to complain (My Grandpa taught me this).
The Husband and I spend some of our summer days with our friends, the Sm'allards. Often this involves going to the Horse Track and watching ponies run around in circles, enjoying the weather and talking. Occasionally, I'll place a wager. Two dollars is the minimum bet. The most I've won back is $3.20. Suddenly I'm standing up at the finish to see if the horse I've chosen is in the lead. Suddenly it matters.
The election race is similar, I think. I watch the candidates as they parade around, choosing the one I think has the most potential. I could draw parallels between the mounds of horse crap at the track and the promises made by hopeful candidates, but I won't. This time on election day, I'll say "I'll wager my vote on person X to win." And I'll eagerly await the final results, because it matters.
Maybe I'll come out $1.20 on top. But if not, at least I've reserved the right to complain.
1 comment:
In my area, it really doesn't matter if I vote or not. The incumbent always wins. But at least I feel I have the right to complain about him since I cast my ballot yesterday.
Post a Comment