Tis the Season

It's election season.

I feel the need to point this out. If you really think about it, there are a lot of people who might not be aware. There's a huge part of our population that doesn't vote. Why not? Is it that they don't care, or that they don't know? I suppose if you buried your head in the sand, you could ignore election season. There are channels on television that don't mention it, people who don't talk about it, and publications that don't write about it. I can see why some people are unaware or can't drum up enough emotion to care.

This is part of the reason why I find it so odd that I care. I care quite an awful lot. Part of it is, of course, that this is my first chance to vote. I'm old enough now. The state believes that I have the capacity to fill out a ballot, maybe even with some semblance of an opinion if they're lucky. So like millions before me, I registered and geared up to take full possession of my democratic rights.

I feel like I've done a good job making myself into an informed citizen. I've read position statements from all candidates, watched debates, followed the news, talked with people of all persuasions. I even came to a couple of conclusions all by myself. Uncle Sam himself would pat me on the back for making the effort.

Now don't laugh -- I like Dennis Kucinich. Yes, I know he saw aliens. I know his wife is about 30 years his junior and has a tongue piercing. I know the press paints him as a wacky little liberal. But if you read up on him, he has some really good things to say. Single payer health care plan, withdraw from Iraq, searching for alternative energy, the creation of a department of peace -- how could I not like him? I even showed up in the wind and cold when his wife made a brief campaign stop in Modesto. I have a pin!

I felt set. Ready. I have my information. I have my candidate. I have my gear. I even have an absentee ballot so I can vote in Berkeley and keep my ability to vote for local issues when they roll around. So on the day I get my absentee ballot, what do I do? I fill it out immediately. I admit, I felt pretty suave. There I was, 18 and voting for the underdog, taking an active hand in the policies that would affect me. I bubbled with my No. 2 pencil, sealed, signed, and sent. As I dropped my ballot in the mailbox, I could practically hear the national anthem playing in my head.

But this little imaginary serenade was short-lived. I was going home that night. The drive over was pleasant, me babbling about my experience and some slight depression that I wouldn't get to go to a polling place on the 2nd. But oh well! Then we get home. There's my Dad, home from work, and what does he tell me? Not "Hi, honey! Good for you!" but "Oh, didn't you hear? Kucinich dropped today."

And with that, my elation dropped.

But I took it in stride. Whatever. That's cool. At least I voted. At least I took the time to participate in the democratic process and kept our republic alive! At least I took that extra step to ensure that my generation wasn't labeled as uncaring and apathetic!

It was only the other day when I found out I didn't.

Like always, I checked my mailbox, my electoral experience already behind me. And what did I find? That's right! My bright yellow absentee ballot staring back at me. Except this time it was different. Right in the middle there was a large red notice, scolding me for not having affixed a stamp to the left hand corner.

That's right. They don't include postage. I vaguely recalled my mother telling me that I needed to put a stamp on it, but that had escaped me in my excitement. How could they not include postage? The government controls the postal service, right? Maybe they'd get more people voting if they did that! Now, not only had I supported a non-candidate, but I had been discounted through my own carelessness. Uncle Sam no longer wants to shake my hand. No bald eagles would soar overhead as I stroll down Sproul on Super Tuesday. Fireworks wouldn't go off and Souza would stop playing patriotic kazoos in my head. And for what? A stamp.

I didn't give up, of course. I immediately stamped it and threw it back in the mailbox. There's still the hope that they'll count the ballot. Yeah, Kucinich isn't in the race anymore, but I honestly didn't think he'd win anyway. It was more of an ideological vote than anything else. My feelings haven't changed, so why should the vote?

So as I walked down Sproul, watching the professional sign spinners dance for Obama and the Hilary campaign work a table in her honor, I didn't feel like a bad citizen. Yeah, no eagles. But are there ever really visible displays of your vote? No. It's just an imperceptible drop in the democratic ocean. But it wouldn't be an ocean without individual contributions. Change doesn't come from the candidate -- it comes from the citizens.

And there's the moral of the story. My first election -- better than any civics class. So just to remind everyone -- it's election season. Time to get informed. Time to get your head out of the sand. Time to vote.