If you have been a regular reader of this blog, you are probably going to vote tomorrow if you haven’t already. All I can say to you, then, is that I hope you go into the voting booth with a knowledge of the issues and a confidence that your vote will be counted. Other than that, I frankly don’t care who you vote for. After all, I have no right whatsoever to tell you what to do.
I know that you have been inundated with so much information over the last twenty months or so that you don’t want to hear another word from me or anyone else about the election, the candidates, the issues, the trivia, the stupidities, and the Barnum-level bunkum that has turned this exercise in democracy into a combination of a carnival sideshow, religious revival, peep show, and high school drama class. Some people think that the Founding Fathers would be horrified by what the election process has become, but in truth, their campaigns back at the beginning of the United States were just as rambunctious and carnivorous. But they trusted the citizens to make the right choice regardless of the noise, and they knew that when it came down to the actual act of casting a vote, it would be a solitary and intensely private matter. The isolation of the voting booth has a way of clearing the mind and bringing all of the din and tumult to a blessed end. It is just you, the ballot, and your good sense as both a human being who is looking out your own interest and your appreciation as an informed citizen that will make you do the right thing. And that’s picking up the pen, pulling the lever, touching the screen, and making your mark.
As I said, I don’t care who you vote for. Whatever happens, this country, this experiment, this idea, will go on. But only if you vote.