One man, one vote
October 14, 2020
My voting is done. It felt almost anticlimactic, filling out my ballot at the dining room table, signing it, and slipping it into the dropbox, which I’m sure is secure. Many years ago I was young and dumb enough to sit out an election. But if I had to, I’d stand in line all morning, all day, and all night until Kingdom come to cast this vote.
There’ve been long lines all over Atlanta since early voting began. The pandemic isn’t stopping anybody. On the first day, the line at our local polling place stretched for a couple of blocks, which is a lot of determined voters even if they’re six feet apart. Today it was shorter but still ran from one end of the building to the other, everyone wearing a mask and keeping their distance, waiting patiently in the sun. The scene was civilized and for 2020 as normal as could be: no right-wing protestors, “observers,” or gun-toting goons in sight.
Here in the northern suburbs, the Trumpsters seem to be in retreat. Driving through our old neighborhood, which used to be solid Republican, we saw lots of Democratic signs and some for local GOP folks, but just one for DT.
Of course, the campaign’s not over, North Georgia is about to send a QAnon crackpot to Congress, and the presidential vote could swing either way. But it hasn’t been this close in Georgia since I moved here in 2001. There’s hope. Vote, spread the word, take care, and be safe.