He's Not In The Book!

I'm aware of the fat that I didn't share my voting story with you yesterday as planned. Usually, I have some lame excuse like "the dog ate my computer" or "I was scaling an ice covered rock face", but this time, like MC Hammer, I have an excuse that is 2 Legit 2 Quit. While perusing the website of a large metropolitan newspaper (I hate New York) in an effort to prep for the radio show, I was infected with a virus. Not your run of the mill, mucus expelling virus, but the insidious computer type. Thanks to various spy ware and virus protection programs, I was eventually able to rectify the situation. It should have been a quick fix, but since I sometimes look at the computer like my dog looks at PBS, and I have a near paralyzing fear of deleting major operating systems, the process took most of the day. Throw in the fact that I had to get a haircut, (Computer be damned. I have an image to uphold) and you have the makings of a lost day. Now without any further ado.....

I hope you were a responsible citizen and cast your vote Tuesday. You know me, I'm civic minded to the core, so after taking care of a few things I headed to my polling place, not only to vote, but to pick me up one of those sweet "I voted" stickers. Nothing impresses people like a guy wearing a sticker on his coat. Don't believe me? Just ask any conventioneer in a hotel bar. My polling place is the local library. I think that's a respectable location to cast a vote. Knowledge is power and all that, books, being informed. You follow my logic right? It sure is better than one of the places I had to vote when I lived in California. For one election I went to a person's house and voted in their garage. The ballots were then put in a blue plastic tub. That didn't seem very official. For all I knew, this was some back alley voter fraud. Did I voice my concerns? No, I just swiped the guy's lawn mower and called it even.

So I'm in the library (remember) and I approach the table to sign in and get my ballot. Seated at this table were four senior citizens who were acting as the election judges, poll watchers and gate keepers of the democratic process. The man seated in middle, put down his McDonald's Chicken
Select (I wish I were kidding) and asked my name. Since "Wife" and I have voted at the library before, he immediately found my card and I signed my name. That's when the fun started. A woman who was so old she may have been a delegate at the Constitutional Convention let out a guttural howl. "He's not in the book!" She yelled it so loud that I thought a cadre of librarians would rush in and shush us in unison. "He's not in the book!" She couldn't stop saying it. I stood before her and and noticed that, in fact, I wasn't in the book. I saw that "Wife's" name had been written in at the bottom of the page. "There's my wife's name, I'm at the same address. I've voted here before." I tried to explain. "He's not in the book!" Man, this woman was single minded. The judge who had my registration card tried assuring her that I was, in fact, OK, and that she could just put me in the book. "He's not in the book!' "Well, just put me in the book." "You can put him in the book." "He's not in the book!" After thirty seven minutes of an improvised "Abbott and Costello Meet the Founding Fathers" routine the book keeper wrapped her gnarled hand around her quill pen, pulled it from the ink well and scrawled my name in the book. The judge handing out the ballots and I didn't fare much better. I had to shout my party affiliation four times. (Maybe he didn't get it when I responded "every day!" when he asked "Party?")

I saw news footage of people using high tech, touch screen voting machines. I wasn't on the tech express. I was handed a paper ballot and a black, Bic , Write Brothers, pen. What is this ? Am I in 7th grade electing a homeroom rep for student council? This is a presidential primary. I felt like I was back in grade school taking a standardized test and filling out my Scan-Tron sheet. I could barely focus on my votes since I was concentrating so hard on keeping my pen mark inside the circle. I'd hate to think that my vote didn't count because I had failed coloring in kindergarten. (Yeah, I did, but that's another story. It does explain a lot of the choices I've made, being outside the lines and all.) I finished voting, clapped the chalk off the erasers and headed out. My sticker was a badge of honor for about ten minutes. I think I lost it somewhere in the grocery store. For the rest of the day, I was reduced to running up to people and telling them I voted.

Now that the electoral process is over for a few months (in Illinois anyway) I hope you'll stay up late or wake up early Saturday night/Sunday morning and listen to the big show on WGN. This week we'll have regular features like the Overnight Arcade and Idol Chatter, but I'll also be talking to my resident music experts from Heave Media, getting their Grammy predictions, and discussing childhood vaccines and other medical issues with the very engaging Dr. Fatima Kahn. What a show! I may even do my election story live. Think of it, these words brought to life. Dare to dream. Have a great weekend. Later....Brian