TorteDeForm

NycEve

This little vote of mine, I’m gonna make it shine

Your precious little vote.

For so long, I took this gift for granted. I did. The precious little vote, that no one could take from me. I was so wrong.

Tell your friends, your neighbors, your family, that the precious little vote, will only shine if they treasure it and exercise it.

I'm not going to write about tort deform today. I'm not going to write about insurance company atrocities today. I'm not going to write about the collapse of our healthcare system today.

None of that matters today. All that counts--literally-- is making those votes shine tomorrow.

Will it matter, that little vote of mine?

I worry because people are partying in New York. They're not saving the country. You spot a couple of forlorn Spitzer posters here and there. Hillary? Nothing. War? What war.

We had a marathon yesterday. I remember when people cheered for politicians who promised to battle disease, hunger and poverty. Now we Americans have little to celebrate so we cheer for runners and athletes.


There is no war around here--in New York. Mr. Bush is not even a comma, he is an itch. He doesn't want any of us to feel or touch or taste that war of his. So around these parts, we shop and eat in fine restaurants and do as we're told--we have marathons, fireworks, lavish fourth of July festivites and most of all, we go about our business.

People vote or they don't vote. They vote if they have the time. Time is money. I repeat, time is money.

Voting used to feel sacred, now it feels creepy. Maybe this is part of the plan. Perhaps they want us to give up on voting too. So many have stopped believing that they have the power to replace one worn out and corrupt incumbent with someone new, much less to change the direction of our nation.

I think this is called the triumph of despair--this is good for them and bad for us.

In America, only a few of us dare talk about strange--some people call them "funky"--elections. Mostly we anesthetize ourselves from reality. In America, buying and selling stuff is reality, commerce defines the national psyche not how to rescue a Democracy in freefall.

Americans still believe (how stupid can we be?) that Democracy is our birthright--it's not. It's a fragile experiment, under siege by a group of con men and thugs. An experiment dare I say, worth fighting and dying for.

I am struck, are you, by the normalcy of life. This is what they want. They want to strangle and decapitate our Democracy while we shop, watch American Idol with a can of beer in one hand and a Big Mac with fries in the other.

Vote? The real question--the only question, how many aren't voting? All those millions of beautiful little votes that will never shine.

I think of it in these terms and so do they: as long as there's food in the supermarkets and money coming from the ATM magic money machines on over-extended credit cards, then all is good in the world.

Elections take time--time away from work, the gym, another deal another dollar. And they don't count the votes any longer, millions of Americans undoubtedly say with a resigned shrug of the shoulders, so why bother?

"Did you read the New York Times editorial this morning", I asked a friend yesterday. "It's not only me and my crazy friends, even the Times says Tuesday is the end of the road", I plead. Yes, I'm desperate and I'm scared.

"I'm heading out to the marathon, take it easy, Eve."

Where's the outrage?

This little vote of mine, I'm gonna make it shine, yes I will, yes I will.

NycEve: Author Bio | Other Posts
Posted at 11:07 AM, Nov 06, 2006 in Civil Justice
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