At 6:30 this morning, the scent of ocean struck me even before I opened the door; gleaming pale fog clung to the houses and trees, obscuring the runnel of traffic already building. As I bobbled along, I found myself singing, off-tune and wavering, under my breath.
“There’s a bright golden haze on the meeeeadow
There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow
The corn is as high as —-
I am gonna swat that girl.”
From “Elli” firstname.lastname@example.org
Subject: Bright golden haze on the meadow
Date: Wed, 21 Sep 2005 14:16:42 +0200
To: “Elsa” email@example.com
Darn you straight to heck, Elli.
For a very few moments at City Hall this morning, I was able to set aside my trembling, stomach-wrenching concern over the outcome of the election, and instead breathe deeply and silently thank all the women who suffered ridicule, pain, and loss to give me my moment in the voting booth. In all fairness, I have this beautiful moment every year in the booth, and I get misty-eyed every time I watch “Mary Poppins” (which is more often than you’d think) and Mrs. Banks breaks into Sister Suffragette
Contrary to fearful predictions, our polls ran smoothly for most of the day. I brought extra ID, a book, and a bottle of water, expecting a longish wait and perhaps some confusion, but the line was moving so fluidly as to be nonexistent. Having prepared by studying the sample ballots, I was in and out the door in about four minutes.
We are lucky and privileged to have this system, flawed though it is. I’m glad to see so many people energized to vote this year. For the past few years, I’ve been more and more distanced from the rest of the United States, but today I was glad to be one of us.
We’ll see how far into the evening (and the media coverage) this feeling lasts.