Rituals of Democracy
I made it to the polls last night with 30 minutes to spare. It was dark and you could barely see the volunteers handing out sample ballots.
Three members of my family* had already voted. It gave me a warm feeling to know that others had been there before me. Also a warm feeling to know that this was my last errand of the day, that after this I could go home and collapse.
And this morning, poring over the paper for results and analysis, checking online for the races the Washington Post didn’t cover. (Jim Gray, my father’s good friend, handily re-elected mayor of Lexington, Kentucky!)
The rituals of democracy, which seems flawed these days, but which, after all, is the best hope we have.
(This does not include Copper, though he purloined my “I Voted” sticker.)