Confession: I (Sorta) Rocked the Vote

So we all know that I'm a Democrat. Open curtains, there's no surprise there. But yesterday I almost didn't vote. Wanna know why?

Because it's a ten minute drive in the opposite direction of where I was going (oral surgeon) and I didn't want to wait. Seriously. Pathetic.

Let me tell you about voting yesterday. I drove up in my car. I walked inside, filled out a two-line form verifying my identity. Was the first person in line to show my ID and get a card for the machine. Walked straight to one, put in all my votes, reviewed them, and cast my ballot. Got a sticker and a bottle of water. Drove to TJ Maxx and went shopping. In thirty minutes, I saw my oral surgeon, drove ten minutes to my polling place, then went shopping.

I wasn't intimidated. I wasn't beaten bloody, almost to death. I wasn't put into an asylum for thinking it should be my right to speak my peace. No one told me I was at the wrong place, causing me to walk nine miles in the other direction, only to be told the original station was my place to vote. Suffering? I know nothing of it.

And I stand ashamed of myself, for taking for granted the immense right that was won on the backs, bruised and nearly broken, of men and women before me just a few generations.

When I was at TJ Maxx buying some new workout gear, the older woman who was the fitting room attendant, after noting my "I'm a Georgia voter" sticker, said, "Well, do you think we'll have a black president or a white president tonight?". As I tried to conceal my shock, I simply said, "Well, we'll see"! As I was walking into the room, she called after me, "I didn't vote, so whatever happens, you can't blame me"!

Sigh. But for the grace of God, there go I.