So, yeah. That was the election, dudes.
Still can’t believe he won. I mean. . . Really. Right?
Sure it was a close race, well-fought in places, but still pretty nasty there at the end. One side was, of course, a much cleaner and running a better race overall. So I’m glad that side one. Yep. Sure am.
Is it getting obvious that I’m writing this the night of the election and I have no idea who actually won the thing? I mean, sure, I could wait for the returns to come in, but I’m not allowed to read anything about politics and I can’t stand watching television news because all any of those things do is just make me mad.
And not in the good way, either. (For more on that, come back tomorrow for a great post about anger and optimism.)
Still, I did go out and vote, as did the Imperative. (More on that over the weekend.)
And, in addition, so did Zippy the College Boy. Down in Wilmington, NC, Zippy the College Boy is now living away from home so his voting precinct changed away from Charlotte.
Earlier this week, I got a call from the boy.
“Dad! Dad! Guess what?”
“What?” I asked.
“I did it!,” said Zippy the College Boy. “I finally did it. I finally got a chance to vote. . . ”
I was, to say the least, thrilled. Zippy the College Boy, being the still hormonally accelerated barely post-adolescent male that he is, tends to take his politics and his sports rather seriously and will vociferously defend his point of view against all comers. So he’s been looking forward to being an actual voting-age (ha ha ha ha) adult for a while now.
He went ahead and looked at a sample ballot, figured out who he wanted to vote for in his local races and the national races, and then marched into the voting booth. He went in a boy. He came out a boy. Who had voted.
If only there were more people in this country who had his drive and enthusiasm for voting. I’m glad I was able to pass that along, at least.
So. Here’s hoping your candidate won. Unless your candidate isn’t my candidate. In that case, I’m glad your guy lost. Because my guy won. Neener neener. Of course, if your guy won, then I hope you’ll be a gracious winner.
That seems fair, yeah?