2 November 2004
To do my patriotic chore
It was cold and blustery and damp, but I've lived here long enough to know that it takes glare ice to make much of a difference in turnout, so I figured I'd pull in at about 6:40. About fifty folks had had the same idea, only slightly earlier, and there was, at least among this group, considerable sentiment for opening the polls at 6 am instead of 7.
Still, things worked with commendable efficiency; I spied one spoiled ballot replaced on the spot with a new one and one voter who was shunted to the side while someone researched his address change, but everyone else breezed through the two lines (divided alphabetically), and a dozen booths, plus three sit-down areas for wheelchair users, accommodated the crowd with, if not exactly ease, at least a general lack of hassle. The box counts the ballots as they're inserted, and mine, number forty-five, went into the slot at precisely 7:15.
And I was glad to have done the deed, and gladder still that I hadn't waited until this evening, when things are likely to get seriously hairy and, weatherwise, quite a bit wetter.