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Let me just say how much I hate getting called by machines spouting prerecorded messages from Rudolph Guliani and George W. Bush. I mean, I'm pretty Republican so I mostly agree with them politically, but damn it fellas, stop calling me! I've gotten two different messages from Rudy - one last night and on this morning - and this afternoon, George W. called to tell me to get out and vote. And we have three phone lines in this house so you can do the math there.
Here in New Jersey we have an interesting thing going on with our sentate race. You may or may not know about Sen. Robert Torricelli dropping out of the race. Torricelli is a Democrat senator who was at the center a number of ethics scandals and running behind in the polls. So he quit saying "I will not be responsible for the loss of the Democratic majority in the United States Senate". And then he asked to be taken off the ballot. The problem is that NJ law sets the vacancy deadline as 51 days before the general election and Torricelli made his announcement and request 36 days before the election. But a little thing like the law certainly didn't stop the New Jersey Supreme Court, which decided to let Frank Lautenberg - a retired 3 term Senator from NJ - take his place on the ballot. The NJ Supreme Court said "that election laws should be 'liberally construed' to provide a 'full and fair ballot choice for the voters of New Jersey'". Well, they had a choice. It's not like Torricelli *wouldn't* have filled his seat if he actually won. He just didn't think he could win.
What I find weird about the whole Lautenberg thing is that the guy is 78 years old now. That, in and of itself isn't the weird part. No, the weird part is that beat his heavily favored GOP opponent, Congresswoman Millicent Fenwick, in a campaign in which he used her age as an issue. Fenwick was 70, Lautenberg was 58. I though he did the right thing when he resigned 2 years ago. He was at least consistent with his earlier views on age and the office of U. S. Senator. But, he's totally gone back on those now.
So I went to vote this morning. I planned it out perfectly so that I could take Bobby to daycare (Annabel is still sick and can't go back until tomorrow), take part in the democratic process, get bagels for Claudine and I, and still get back in time to get Jake on his bus. Jake says he wants to come with me so that's cool, Claudine stayed home with Annie. Getting Bobby to school was no problem. Ten minutes in and out. Jake and I then went to the fire house which serves as our polling place. Actually it serves as the polling place for two districts: District 1 and District 7. I always forget which district I'm in. But this time they had this really cool map of the entire town broken down by district. I found our street right in the middle of District 7. Cool. Jake and I went over to the old ladies at the District 7 table (in the A-K line) and I told them my name. Which they couldn't find. I spelled it for them. Nope. I'm not there. They kept asking me if I ever voted before. Jake was all "yeah, we voted here before." And he was right, either Claudine and myself have always taken Jake to vote with us. My mom always took me and I think that's one of the reasons I have always realized how important it was to actually take advantage of voting.
They call over the old lady in charge. She asks me if I ever voted before. Ack!. I say yes. She then grabs a bunch of papers that seemed like an pretty interesting list. It had last election's votes broken down by house and street. And when I say votes, I mean who the vote was cast for. So that the person with this list could tell whether a particular house in town voted Democrat or Republican (or Independent... or mixed, or whatever). That seems like a pretty dangerous thing to actually be in existence. But it didn't matter anyway, because we weren't on that list either. We found my street on the list, but our house number was missing from the list. Hmmm. We don't exist.
Well, democratic process be damned, I've got bagels to get and schoolboys to deliver. Off I went to run my other errands. After everyone was properly bageled or off to school, I biked back to the fire house. Oh, and I also found my voter registration card showing when I first registered and my current street address. I was armed with official documentation that says I actually *do* exist. Back I went to the head old lady. She asked me if I ever voted before. YES, I tell her. She grabbed a form and led me to the phone in the kitchen of the fire house. The form she had told her this if a particular name wasn't in the voting rolls book to call a particular number. Which was busy. And busy. And upon redial... busy again. Dial again... busy again. Busy, busy, busy. That phone number? Busy. Should we try again? Busy. Finally after about 25 minutes we get through. She gives my name and address to the woman and tells her that I am *not* in the District 7 voter book. "Well, duh" (I imagine) she says, "that's because he's in District 1" *-click-*. Wha? But the map?... the dangerous list? They all say District 7! We walk over to the old ladies at the District 1 table (in the A-K line). I tell them my name. And there it is. So I vote.
Now I walked out of there all victorious and stuff, but as I rode home I started thinking, "I'm listed in the wrong district, at the end of the day they'll probably throw my vote out anyway. I am the poster boy for voter irregularity."
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