Bonding at early voting...

So, it is finished. I voted early. You can stop the elephant and donkey commercials now (pleasant smile).


On arriving at the polls, I went to the end of the early voting line. Yikes, the line was long!!! As I resolutely took my spot, I exclaimed to the young woman who was last in line, "well, you aren't the last one in line now!"


From there, we (she and I) entered into a converation that lasted an hour and 39 minutes as we slowly wended our way to the electronic machines that we both trusted would honor our intended votes.


What did we share during that time? Let's start with the demographics.

She: Young. Young enough that it was her first time to vote in a presidential election.

Me: Older. Way older. Even so, I haven't been a responsible citizen previously, and haven't voted in many elections.

Her party affiliation? Not a clue. She spoke eloquently about the dynamics of the election and our present-day society and she didn't say anything that pissed me off. In time I liked her so much, I didn't want to know her party affiliation.

My party affiliation? Not gonna tell you (smile). I didn't tell her either. So for a nice long time the two of us talked about so many different things. It was like a dance of words. Each of us being careful to honor the impetus behind the American culture that allows each of us, regardless of our political persuasion, to come together in a voting forum.


We talked about Martha Stewart. We approached the subject delicately, but it's safe to say we both agreed that Martha was welcome in our home anytime, and our hope was that she'd get out of jail and make another billion or so. We also talked about the unfairness of her treatment as compared to that of the Enron males. We both agreed we were ashamed of this particular vignette in American history -- whether one was male or female.


We talked about the fabric of society that constitutes the world at large, about our interconnectedness, and the importance of taking responsibility for our own tiny thread within that universal fabric.


By this point, I couldn't tell if the woman in front of us wanted to kill us or join in our conversation (heh-heh), but the voting line was moving along. In any event, the woman in front of us was intently listening to our dialogue.


Finally, one hour and 39 seconds later, the voting machines loomed in front of us. Our conversation had to end. My young waiting line companion turned and glanced at me to say goodbye. We both mumbled something about being glad to have shared the time talking, but the gratitude we shared in our parting glances said it all.


I saw in her eyes the hope of the future and her opportunity to influence it. I hope she saw in my eyes, past hopes that have already been realized and my gratitude for them. Regardless, it was a totally enjoyable time of sharing with a fellow American.


All in all, I guess we never said very much at all about the election!