November 8, 2022
Normally, I’m not excited about voting. Okay, I’ve never in my 40-plus years of being an eligible voter been excited about voting.
But today! I hummed while I tied the laces on my half-boots, only brought out when it rains. (If weather manipulation was being used to keep Californians away from the polls, it wasn’t going to deter me.) I pulled my rain jacket from the depths of the closet and gave it a good shake.
I was almost giddy with excitement. I confess that I had ripped up my mail-in ballot that arrived weeks ago, convinced that either there would be no elections…or they would once again be overwhelmingly fraudulent, so why bother?
Multiple reminders from commentators I respect urging everyone to vote in person; a feeling that things must change; a certain cocky attitude…I don’t know what came over me. But I was determined to storm the gates of my polling place and see how they would treat me.
*****
As it turned out, they treated me quite well, which wasn’t difficult considering there was only one other voter there. The poll workers were happy to help, no problem that I “lost” my ballot. They requested my full name and address and confirmed that I was registered. Then I signed on a screen using an illegible scrawl like most of us have developed for electronic screen signing.
They asked if I wanted a paper ballot or to vote by machine. I turned and squinted at the single machine, across the room.
“Is that a Dominion machine?“
Blank looks from four middle-aged women. One of them replied, “I don’t know. You can go check.“
I marched over and examined the screen, the printer, what looked like a hard drive…I finally spotted the word “Dominion“ in small letters at the bottom righthand corner of the screen.
“Yup, it’s Dominion. I’ll definitely take a paper ballot.“
The poll worker who had told me I could check stammered, “I thought you were joking. Are they not user-friendly, or something?“
I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I may have rolled my eyes.
“Well, I don’t know about user-friendly, but they are certainly fraud-friendly. Didn’t you all know that? Stolen elections, yada yada? The proof is all over the place.“
I accepted my paper ballot and they pointed to the tables with privacy screens. One said, “If you really want to make sure that no one sees your ballot, that place in the corner is separate from the others.“
*****
I sat at the nearest spot, where anyone walking behind me could peek. I don’t care who knows how I voted.
For the most part, it was a straight blue or red ticket, only two choices per position. No eighty-plus obscure candidates vying for governor, like there was when Californians “unsuccessfully” attempted to unseat Gavin Newsom a year ago.
I glanced at the other measures and the lengthy list of judicial candidates, and ignored anything that I couldn’t easily decide. They still have to count my vote, right?
*****
The main thing that struck me about this experience today was my feelings about being a voter. Being a citizen and going to a polling place and voting. I felt empowered, regardless of how compromised our voting system might still be.
I was chatty with the poll workers and with other voters. One of the men was waiting for the Dominion machine to become available. I said, with a friendly smile, “Why don’t you use a paper ballot? You wouldn’t have to wait.“
I could see him considering, and he asked a poll worker, who replied, “You can only use the machine because this is not your precinct.“
Turns out that his longtime polling place was mysteriously closed. I didn’t say it out loud, but my jaundiced thought was, well, there’s yet another way for them to funnel votes to Dominion machines.
*****
I had one last question after I had stuffed my ballot into the large cardboard box after removing it from the privacy sleeve.
“Aren’t any of you concerned about voter identification? I mean, you didn’t ask for my ID. I gave you my name and address, but anybody could’ve known that. How do you know it was me?“
I don’t remember the answer. Something about precincts. They politely directed me to the supervising worker who was helping somebody else, but I declined.
I have my own ideas about why ID is not required, and I doubt anybody at the polling place would have wanted to hear them.
November 8, 2022 is over, for me. I won’t be avidly watching mainstream news to see the “results.“ Whatever happens, I am confident that I infused my little portion of the voting world with my energy, my positivity, and my belief that the true will of the people of the United States is, by gum or by golly, going to prevail, this time.
