What a great day! I call it winning when I awake to
clear blue Midwest
skies, and on approaching the polling place I am greeted by a plethora
of political signs and freezing campaign workers. Only in America do
these folks hope that they can influence my vote at such a late date.
They often bring rain gauges, pens and potholders to bribe me with, so I
immediately called out, "Who has potholders for me today?" A strong male
voice in the back answered, "Pens! I have pens!" I followed the voice to a gloved
hand that was offering me 4 shiny red pens. 
"You do realize," I said, grabbing the pens," that I might not vote for your candidate." With that I shoved the pens in my
pocket and rushed to the campaign-free zone 300 feet between the campaigners and
the polling place.
Once inside the sacred sanctum of the voting booths I wanted to test the security of our voting system, but Midwesterners are so darn nice they wouldn't bite. The man asked to see my driver's license, but even though I had drawn a mustache on my photo, he didn't question me. Maybe it was because he's my insurance agent. I told another worker I found the license in the parking lot, and he thanked me for picking up litter. My poll worker said to be sure to sign my name the same way it was signed on the roster, so I performed my worst left handed backhand and made my writing all shakey. My signature looked like a drunk chicken had walked through it with muddy feet. Dang! They let me vote!
At the end of the day I felt good. It warmed my heart to know that even though Sheldon Adelson spent $70 million on this election, he didn't get everything he paid for. I'd rather see him spend some bucks on a new hairdresser. And although Rush Limbaugh and The Donald and will be bashing our eardrums for the next four years, I got four free pens. I can't lose.
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| Sheldon Adelson |
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