At the hospital today to get my share of chemicals. I was talking to one of my nurses about voting days past and it was kind of fun trying to remember the details. Thought that I would continue the thread here at Caminoheads.
It would be November in Buffalo, New York and you went with your parents to vote, a kind of a Ralphy pilgrimage. You walked because each neighborhood had a place. It was cold and dark but not quite snowy yet. But maybe you didn’t have your new Sears and Roebuck winter coat yet so staying warm was a little dicey in the coat that you had outgrown.
The city had these little wooden structures all painted green that they would deliver to all the neighborhoods maybe a week before the big day. I could guess and say they were something like 10 by 16 feet in plan. Not a lot of room in there for more than one family at a time.
So there must have been a table for check in although I don’t remember that as there were other things more important. The white painted interior of the building was lit with a couple of light bulbs which was such a contrast to the darkness outside.
In the corner was a potbelly stove burning coal which was pretty exciting. But the main event was actually going into the voting machine. Yea you sort of entered it and there was this lever that swung and caused the heavy curtain to close behind you for the privacy required. Of course, only the adults voted and we would just peek in as they entered and exited. All very mysterious for us short people.
My parents never ever talked politics at home and people in general out and around did a good job avoiding it too. Our neighborhood was probably 90% Democrats I would guess, blue collar guys for the most part. My Mother probably voted on the Democratic side most often reflecting the neighborhood while my
Dad was more involved with the Republican side of the ballot having more country influence. But again they never talked about it and it didn’t seem like it ever caused a problem between them. You just voted and then walked home and set the table and ate meat and potatoes like always.
I remember registering to vote when I was eighteen and choosing Independent to describe myself, seemed like a balanced thing to do. Yup, and those were the days of 15 cent hamburgers but that is another story for another day.
Thanks, love, Felipé.
I appreciate mail in voting but this was such a wonderful story that I think I would appreciate that experience also.
Michelle ~ I am in some sort of bermuda triangle here. I’ve lost three replies to you. Right now let me say glad that you liked it. Later, Felipe.x
Dear Felipe,
That was a nice story… Just a couple days ago, on 30Oct, Argentina did 35 years since we voted for the first time after the last dictatorship. I was 8 when I watched that on TV, I had no idea my country had so many people (and that was only the city!!!!!) wherever the cameras were showing, there were people! Here to vote is mandatory, but having the memory of that day, and as a teenager and then as a (young!!!) adult, knowing what the people that were celebrating that day were about to leave behind, lives in my spirit every time I have to go to vote. I think the challenge is that we not always like the politicians, they are not the “public servers” they should be, but still, voting is a right, that many didn’t have for many years…
Civil loves,
Cris
Cris ~ thank you for that view from somewhere else. Probably in the dictatorship they consciously kept people separated and isolated to have better control over the whole situation. That is interesting that was your impression as a child to first get the immensity of your country and all it’s people. Bueno. Of course I know little about the history of your country so I am just guessing on all that.
Yes, and good voting is a challenge. What does my country need now and for the foreseeable future? It takes some grounding in civics and history. And it takes keeping up in current affairs not in a partisan way but a balanced way. Right now we here all have a headache from our election. It was way too contentious but it’s over. It’s almost like a rebirth that has presented a certain amount of pain to get through.
So, glad that you had the chance to see Jim and Gloria while they were traveling. Jim and I go way back to Buffalo, NY and the times that I was describing yesterday. I hope that you got the joke the “Ralphy pilgrimage”. There is a Christmas movie called “A Christmas Story” by Gene Shepard that is popular here and the protagonist is a young boy Ralphy. Try to see it with Christmas coming up. OK, miss you, Felipe.x