Pavement

I know I said I wasn’t going to discuss politics on this blog. I meant it, and for 375 posts, I stuck to it. The problem is, I went to the dentist on Tuesday. Don’t get me wrong. I love my dentist. If you need a terrific dentist, go to mine.

No, the issue is the very nice, very young, new receptionist. It turns out that she never registered to vote. She has a child, and she has never voted.

Be quiet. I’m cynical too. I mistrust the motives of career politicians, and the actions necessary for zealots of any ideology to attain even the lower hanging fruit of public office. Sometimes there are no good choices. That doesn’t excuse you from doing your damnedest to make one.

So I spent the duration of my mother’s dental exam and cleaning (we both go, it saves me from making two trips) proselytizing citizenship. That’s when I found out that the pretty girl with the exquisite eyeliner and perfect manicure is a fan of Donald Trump. She loves his show. He’s so smart, he could be President.

My ballot is complete and ready to be mailed. We all get a vote, and if she ever does register, hers will count exactly as much as the one I researched and agonized over. Hoisted by my petard, I walk the road paved with good intentions with my shoulders back and my head high. I’d do it all over again.

Voting is that important, even if we don’t agree for whom.