The Techwatch people never did respond to any of my inquiries as to where I’m supposed to be tomorrow; or about the hours and what I need to do, so I won’t be going to Kansas City after all.
I tried to volunteer to drive voters to the polls tomorrow, but it was too late. I guess all I can do on tomorrow’s momentous day is get up early and go vote, before the buses bring in all those senior citizens from all the retirement communities that surround us.
I posted some old, old poems, but I’m not poet (which is warning). Today seemed a good time to do it. I know–odd. Don’t worry, I’ll only do this on the eve of critical presidential elections.
I’ve been pushing at those working for this candidate or another lately, but that’s my burnout with this election, not with the volunteers who have worked hard to get their person elected. I admire such hard work, and good on you.
But unlike the excited anticipation elsewhere, I just feel let down – like today’s Christmas day (or whatever holiday of your choice) and we’ve opened the presents and all the fun is over with. You know the feeling. I am glad that the race is over, but I wonder what it will leave in its wake.
I was feeling low enough that I actually went to some of the sites that raise my blood pressure, in order to incite a little of the old burn. At Instapundit I read the following:
ARE WE REALLY MORE DIVIDED THAN WE’VE EVER BEEN? I recently asked my mother whether this election was, as everyone I work with keeps assuring me, “the nastiest election ever.” I live on the Upper West Side, three blocks from the house I grew up in, and honestly, this election feels to me very much the same as the elections of 1984, 1988 and 1992, when we also had Republican incumbents: the daily predictions of apocalypse should the incumbent be re-elected, the virulent and vicious hatred unleashed in logorrheic torrents every time his name was mentioned, the threats to leave the country if the Republican was returned to office .
But I was a schoolgirl then, and couldn’t vote, and it’s very possible that my memories are not representative, since most of my teachers ranged between the liberal democratic and the hard left. So I asked my mother, who remembers those days more clearly.
(Emphasis mine)
Instapundit was a schoolgirl!?! Damn! Instasexchange, I guess.
Took me a couple of moments to realize that Glenn Reynolds is having guest authors.
(P.S. Vote tomorrow, or I’ll publish more poetry.)
