PSALMS OF DEPRIVATION

Five: "ELECTION DAY"

"You know what tomorrow is, right?" the man asked. He was all decked out in red, white and blue and reminded me of a Firecracker Popsicle. He was in full costume, a stan for Uncle Sam. And he wanted me.

"Tuesday?" I asked.

"Well, yes. It will be Tuesday. But, more importantly, it's Election Day!" he rejoiced with a big, suspect, shit eating grin. "Do you plan on voting, young man?"

"Oh, yes. Of course I'm going to vote," I replied, the sarcasm floating directly over his head.

"Great! That's just great. So I'm assuming, then, that you're already registered?"

"Oh, yes. I've been a registered sex-offender for the better part of the last two years."

Initially there were blank stares. Awkward silence initiated by yours truly. His excitement vanished from his face. The shit eating grin turned into a crooked frown, and his brow lowered forming a vicious scowl. I could tell he was caught off guard by the strange remark and instantly regretted striking up the conversation, let alone shaking my hand.

"Take a hike, buddy," he told me, as he jerked his thumb towards the direction I had been walking. That was sign language for, "get the fuck out of here". Stan Uncle Sam no longer wanted me.

Anyway, that's how I found out about Election Day.

Later on that night I was at my friend Lenny's house, drinking. Harry Flannigan was there too. Harry was in his last semester of college, a Political Science major. So, needless to say he too had a hard dick for Election Day. Erection Day? Never mind. Harry wasn't nearly as tacky and cartoonish as the Uncle Sam stan had been, so I discussed my political indifference with him in a far less sarcastic tone.

"What do you mean you're not going to vote?" he scolded me.

"Exactly what I said. I'm not voting." I hadn't stuttered.

"C'mon man. You gotta vote...."

I cut him off. "Man, I don't gotta do shit."

He went on this long spiel about why this particular party had to beat that particular party, or else this dude would fire that dude and bring in some other dude. And this dude apparently copped a feel on some bitch back in the day. And another guy wanted to fuck around with health insurance, while the other pretended like he was going to lower taxes. All I wanted to know was who was going to legalize the weed. I don't know, I just couldn't pay attention to all of it. Harry might as well have been Charlie Brown's parents because that's what the whole rant sounded like. The only part I caught was the last sentence. "...and that's why you have to go to the polls."

"The only poles I'm going to are the ones with stippers on them," I replied. And that was saying a lot. Titty bars had the tendency to gross me out. But not nearly as much as politics.

"I'm being serious," said Harry. "It's your civic duty, plus you might as well enact your rights."

"I don't feel as though I have the right."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I don't keep myself informed enough to deserve the right to vote," I replied.

The amount of time and dedication it takes to be informed, I'm talking really informed about what's going on, isn't worth the limited ability to create change. Meaning the limitation of the sole individual. I'd waste too much time perfecting the knowledge, all for it to still end up in some rich, stranger's hands to be the ultimate decision maker. Sure, I'd be well read and able to make a firm decision on who I'd want to vote for, all for that to account for one measly vote. I'd rather perfect the aspects of my life in which I have the most control, and politics and the good of the nation ain't it. My self-awareness knows my limitations and tells me that I can't make the difference of which society claims I'm capable, based on voting in elections. If you want to vote, go ahead. That doesn't mean I have to.

Harry gave up on the lost cause and started in on Lenny, instead.

"How about you? Are you going to vote?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm gonna vote. I mean, I might as well, right?"

"My man! Good shit. Make sure you vote Republican."

That was another thing that bothered me. Everyone was always going around and telling people to vote. But that wasn't enough. That was only step one. Once you agreed to vote, in the very next breath, they were telling you who to vote for. Everyone had these little personal agendas. All the political heads have a motive. They all want to convince as many people as possible to think like them. A sales pitch disguising your right to vote as the bait. Thank God I thrive on my own indifference. I don't involve myself in anything that doesn't predominantly involve me. And if it doesn't involve me in a feasible way then I don't give two shits about it. And this ain't no ego trip shit, but at some point you'd be a fool to think about anybody but yourself and who you deem worthy of your valuable time.

"You want to know another reason I'm not voting," I chimed in, interrupting Harry's political brainwash attempt on Lenny. "I heard that they pick jury duty members based on people who have voted and I'm not trying to have to go to that shit either. I have no right to vote, nor cast judgment on the guilt of another human being. I am the ideal American, one who shall mind his own business."

I was drunk off my ass at this point and was saying shit just to say it, out of boredom.

I woke up with a slight hangover the next day but was able to shake it once I had a cup of coffee. I can't explain it but it felt as though people were dickeating on Election Day more than usual. Or maybe I was finally old enough to take notice of it. It almost had a holiday type of atmosphere. There was a bland buzz in the air and it gave people something to talk about, but I had nothing to say.

It felt like every other person I talked to asked, "Did you vote, yet?" The "yet" part annoyed me because it was an assumption that I'd vote at some point. I was honest with the first ten or so people who asked. I gave all of them the same shit that I told Harry. "I do not keep myself informed enough to deserve a vote." Some people respected my honesty. Others did not. After a while I started bullshitting everybody and told them that I would vote once I got off work. I even got a last, desperate phone call from Harry. "I know you were really drunk last night and I couldn't tell if you were serious or joking about everything." Mission accomplished, I thought. Always leave them guessing. "But for real dude," Harry continued, "Please go and vote once you get home."

"Alright, alright. I'll go vote. I'm tired of getting bitched at," I replied.

"Ayyye, thanks man. You won't regret it, trust me. You'll feel good about it afterwards."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"Oh, and another thing...."

I cut him off. "I know. You don't have to tell me. Vote Republicrat."

"It's Republican. But, yeah, close enough."

"I know. I was just being a dick."

I got back around the neighborhood and stopped by the poppy store for a pack of cigarettes. The store was located right across the street from the elementary school that was hosting the polls. I could see a long line of people waiting to cast their vote. A long line of individuals who were coming together, believing that they were on the cusp of putting their own personal stamp on the future of our nation. It was nice to see, in a weird way. You don't see people coming together for a common goal that often. I got all warm and fuzzy inside.

That being said...

I hate large groups of people and waiting in lines, so any slight chance of me voting went right out the window at that point. I opened up my fresh pack of cigarettes, pulled one out and lit it. I started my walk up the block towards my house and saw a small sticker on the ground that said, "I VOTED," in big bold letters; red, white and blue all over it. I picked the sticker up and put it in my pocket. That way, next time I saw Harry, I'd have my proof. I voted on Election Day. The only thing that could have made me more of a fraud would have been if I actually voted.