I do love a good election season. Today is the Michigan primary election. It has been on my calendar for months. Even if it weren’t, I would know by all of the calls I’ve been getting for the past two days. Some people detest those calls. Not me. I want to engage them in conversation. Two nights ago I picked up a call intended for my husband. It was someone from the Hillary Clinton campaign. “Is Daniel there, this is Judy from the Hillary for President campaign.” She was all business.
“No, Daniel is out of town. But he already voted absentee.”
“Well, I might break the rules and ask you how he voted. Did he tell you?”
“Yes he did. But, don’t you want to talk to me?”
“It says here that I need to talk to Daniel.”
“But, I’m your girl. You want to talk to me.” I assured her. Oh well, it wasn’t my turn I guess.
Then last night as I was working in my classroom I got a call announcing that if I wanted to participate in a live town hall meeting with President Bill Clinton I just needed to remain on the line. I listened in awe to that familiar, comforting voice for about ten minutes. Wow, I could ask a question and he would respond to me. What should I ask him? It has to be relevant. It has to be intelligent.
Never mind. Before I could conjure up a worthy question for Bill, my cell phone rang. It was my husband. “Honey, you interrupted my phone call with Bill!” I chided.
Today it seems as though all of my friends are flaunting their “I voted” stickers all over Facebook. My polling site had run out before I voted. Rats. No flaunting for me. My right to revel in my voter celebrations has been denied.