I Voted. And Ate Chinese.
We don’t have a lot of traditions in our family. We lack the kind of events that repeat regularly time and again so that years from now our children can look back to their formative years, and pinpoint with ease the things we did to drive them into therapy. For Halloween, we go to the zoo. For Abbie’s birthday, we grill too much food for the neighbors. For the major feast-based holidays, we visit our parents, with at least one child festively screaming the entire drive.
Last night was election night,* and while voting I realized that we have a voting tradition; we go out after work, vote, and discuss the elections over dinner at a restaurant, preferably Chinese. This tradition started back in 2000, when we voted at a nearby church that night. After completing the anti-climatic act of drawing lines on a paper and feeding it into a machine, we completed the evening by walking to the nearest restaurant for dinner, a Chinese place we visited about once a week back when we had the disposable income and time to go out to eat that often. We enjoyed the aftermath of the 2000 presidential elections so much that we repeated our ritual on the first Tuesday of November of odd-numbered years. We vote in primaries too, but those aren’t special enough to warrant dinner afterwards.
As soon as the boys woke from their afternoon nap, we fed them, packed everyone for travel, and drove to vote. Our current polling place is a YMCA, which offers many more distractions for a child than a church. That’s especially true since a church is usually otherwise deserted on a Tuesday night save for the occasional bible study group, but a YMCA is teeming with activity every night as people attend their weekly jazzerswim class.
We followed the usual travel protocol with the boys in the stroller and Abbie roaming free. Ellie took the twins and the responsibility of pushing them, and I took Abbie and the responsibility of keeping her by my side and out of the weight room, especially without a spotter.
I’ve never had a long wait to vote, and last night was no exception. Unlike other parts of the country that are more crooked, er, crowded, Iowa speeds people through the process. That’s much appreciated when I’m toting children; a 20 minute wait is enough time for a toddler to clean the diaper bag of Goldfish and Fruit Rings.
I entertained Abbie with a rattle while I filled out my ballot. A rattle is a little juvenile for her, but at least I could hear where she was wandering. I cruised through the first page of the ballot since I already knew who I was going to vote for in the major races: Governor, US representative, Iowa representative in the race where the incumbent has no challenger. Then I flipped the page and found the dregs of the races: Judge retention and random boards. I consider myself an informed voter, but I knew nothing about the people running for the county soil conservation board. Ellie works at a hospital, and even she knew nothing about the county hospital board. I did my civic duty and started randomly filling in dots, and quickly realized that I’d voted yes and no on retention of one judge.
Back through the process I went with a fresh ballot. Abbie was growing board at this point, wandering the room, throwing her rattle, and otherwise doing her best to tamper with strangers’ ballots. I finished my ballot quickly since I had familiarity this time, fed it into the machine that should count my ballot but may actually just shred it, and we left for Chinese. Our old favorite Chinese restaurant is gone, so we visited our new favorite Chinese buffet where the boys dined on green beans, and Abbie discovered that sweet and sour chicken is just like chicken nuggets. When we move next year, hopefully there will be another Chinese restaurant near our new polling place. A family tradition depends on it.
* If your candidate won, congratulations. If you candidate was Republican, I’m sorry.
Last night was election night,* and while voting I realized that we have a voting tradition; we go out after work, vote, and discuss the elections over dinner at a restaurant, preferably Chinese. This tradition started back in 2000, when we voted at a nearby church that night. After completing the anti-climatic act of drawing lines on a paper and feeding it into a machine, we completed the evening by walking to the nearest restaurant for dinner, a Chinese place we visited about once a week back when we had the disposable income and time to go out to eat that often. We enjoyed the aftermath of the 2000 presidential elections so much that we repeated our ritual on the first Tuesday of November of odd-numbered years. We vote in primaries too, but those aren’t special enough to warrant dinner afterwards.
As soon as the boys woke from their afternoon nap, we fed them, packed everyone for travel, and drove to vote. Our current polling place is a YMCA, which offers many more distractions for a child than a church. That’s especially true since a church is usually otherwise deserted on a Tuesday night save for the occasional bible study group, but a YMCA is teeming with activity every night as people attend their weekly jazzerswim class.
We followed the usual travel protocol with the boys in the stroller and Abbie roaming free. Ellie took the twins and the responsibility of pushing them, and I took Abbie and the responsibility of keeping her by my side and out of the weight room, especially without a spotter.
I’ve never had a long wait to vote, and last night was no exception. Unlike other parts of the country that are more crooked, er, crowded, Iowa speeds people through the process. That’s much appreciated when I’m toting children; a 20 minute wait is enough time for a toddler to clean the diaper bag of Goldfish and Fruit Rings.
I entertained Abbie with a rattle while I filled out my ballot. A rattle is a little juvenile for her, but at least I could hear where she was wandering. I cruised through the first page of the ballot since I already knew who I was going to vote for in the major races: Governor, US representative, Iowa representative in the race where the incumbent has no challenger. Then I flipped the page and found the dregs of the races: Judge retention and random boards. I consider myself an informed voter, but I knew nothing about the people running for the county soil conservation board. Ellie works at a hospital, and even she knew nothing about the county hospital board. I did my civic duty and started randomly filling in dots, and quickly realized that I’d voted yes and no on retention of one judge.
Back through the process I went with a fresh ballot. Abbie was growing board at this point, wandering the room, throwing her rattle, and otherwise doing her best to tamper with strangers’ ballots. I finished my ballot quickly since I had familiarity this time, fed it into the machine that should count my ballot but may actually just shred it, and we left for Chinese. Our old favorite Chinese restaurant is gone, so we visited our new favorite Chinese buffet where the boys dined on green beans, and Abbie discovered that sweet and sour chicken is just like chicken nuggets. When we move next year, hopefully there will be another Chinese restaurant near our new polling place. A family tradition depends on it.
* If your candidate won, congratulations. If you candidate was Republican, I’m sorry.
posted by Matt at
11:17 PM
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