About Voting

I'm not going to get on my political soapbox, mostly because it's over done. And why you'll rarely hear from Mumpleland about political issues. It also usually gives me a migraine--and there ain't a politician on the planet worth that kind of MY pain. (Oh, they deserve the pain, surely, but I do not.)

Anyway, about this American voting thing:

My Sweetie, and the Howler both asked me how I voted. I did vote. But it ain't nobody's business how, exactly, I hit those pretty colored little buttons. All anybody needs to know is that I did hit 'em.

Why? Because, one of the things this country was founded on is that every citizen (okay, at the founding, it was MEN, and white MEN at that, but that's a different rant) had the right to choose, speak, and vote his (or in the 21st century, her) conscience.

And I do. I do my best to understand what the candidates (local or otherwise) are blathering about; I weigh the issues of importance; I stand in line; I sign my name; and I vote. And I proudly wear the little sticker. And I encourage others to register and vote also.

What I don't do is discuss my Tuesday-in-November decision. I don't because I don't have to.

And you can't make me. Nyah nyah nyah.

(Although I explain it to the Howler this way: when you talked about voting and elections in school today, did they also explain that in American, you don't have to tell anybody how you voted. And nobody can make you. And that's the way it is because nobody has the right to tell you how to vote, and nobody is allowed to treat you bad if you don't vote the way they think you should. I voted, and that's all you--or Daddy--need to know.)

For my close, I wonder if you can keep a secret.














I can.