I Vote for ... Paper

Do you want paper or plastic?

If I'm in the grocery store, I usually vote for plastic. (That's because I can carry more plastic bags at one time, saving trips to the car. However, if it's near Christmas time, I might opt for paper. Santa might need to borrow a paper sack for his special deliveries. And yes, I know I should opt for cloth bags every time ... but, I digress.)

But when it comes to exercising my constitutional right to vote, I think I'm going to have to vote paper.

After the primary election in August, I was chastising myself for not being brave and trying the new electronic voting machine at my Sylvia polling place.

I promised a faithful reader I would try the electronic ballot during the general election. And, being someone who keeps her promises, I did.

I voted at 6:30 Tuesday evening before I went to a PEO meeting in Sylvia. So you'd have thought they'd have the voting machine figured out 11 1/2 hours into the process.

But, since I was only about the second person to use it, it hadn't gotten a lot of action during the day, according to the poll workers.

"Lightly tap it with your fingernail," they suggested when I couldn't get the screen to move forward when I tapped "Next."

Oops ... Another one of my failings is revealed. No fingernails.

And no amount of tapping seemed to make the machine budge. It "talked" back with its electronic "thud," but refused to move. I tried. An election worker tried. Finally, I guess we held our mouths right and it advanced.

Each time I tried to advance to the next page, I repeated the electronic "dance" with the machine.

I did eventually get the ballot submitted, taking only three times as long as it would have if I'd used my black felt-tip pen to fill in the ovals.

I would try it again, but I also have another quibble with how the machine is positioned at the Sylvia polls. It's facing the poll workers and anybody who happens to walk in to vote.

Not that there was anyone who walked in to vote during my time there, but I still like the privacy afforded by that patriotic red, white and blue voting booth.

Randy and I covered the spectrum of voters on Tuesday. He was the third person to vote. I was the 25th to vote in our township and about the 100th person to vote overall.

Just in case you're wondering, Randy voted for paper. I'm afraid I may have to do the same next time.

Feeling Ancient

I did my patriotic duty yesterday morning. Randy and I were voters Number 6 and 7 in the tiny Reno County town of Sylvia.

For the first time, we had the option of using an electronic voting machine. And that's why I am feeling ancient.

I opted for the good, ol' paper ballot.

Then I was kicking myself.

"Man, that would have been great blogging material," I decided on my way home.

Obviously, my old-fashioned choice has not deterred me from writing about it anyway.

I was a little mad at myself, though, and I've spent way too much time reevaluating my decision to go with paper. (Note to self: Read yesterday's blog again: Will this decision matter in a year? Heck, will this decision matter in 10 minutes? Answer to self: No and no!)

But, on the other hand, it is sometimes a little difficult to trust technology in general. We've had a tractor in the shop for the past week. We have been fighting this lemon of a tractor since we got it.

And I've spent the last few days interacting with website people and trying to figure out why my computer and I are wreaking havoc on my part-time employer's website. (No answers yet.)

Even TIME magazine considered all that could go wrong before the last general election: breaking machines, crashing computers, vanishing votes? Is it any wonder I grabbed the black felt-tip pen and carefully filled in the little ovals on my crisp white paper ballot?

Also in my defense: The one electronic balloting station was out there in front of God and everybody. Not that there were a lot of people standing around waiting to vote in Sylvia, population 292.

But I like standing behind those striped red, white and blue curtains in the rickety voting booth and making my choices in private.

I did not take any photos of the electronic voting machine. I wasn't sure whether photography was allowed in the vicinity of the polling place.

And I didn't want to get yelled at by the gruff election worker. It has happened before. I simply tried to move the election book just a hair so I could sign my name more easily.

"Don't touch the book!" he shouted, acting like I was going to rip it out of his hands and tear it into shreds.

"OK, OK! Take it easy. Hey, I'm left-handed. The angle is a little different. It's discrimination, I tell you!" (That conversation was all in my head, by the way. I just smiled politely.)

While I was in the voting booth, I heard the chief election guy tell his two young counterparts that he figured most people would use the paper ballots.

Gosh, I am sure sorry to have proved him right.

But my paper ballot was swallowed into the counting machine, and I have confidence that my vote was be counted.

Isn't that what America is all about?

And it's all about freedom of speech, too. That was important to remember when I got interrupted yet again and raced to the phone for an important phone call, only to discover a sincere, recorded voice telling me for whom and how I should vote. Who knew Sarah Palin would take time to call little old me? Maybe she and I could become BFFs. (Best Friends Forever, for you non-text-messaging-people out there.) I think it would be a rather one-sided conversation if our recent interaction is any indication.

Freedom of speech is important even if it means every television ad seemed to be an attack on this candidate or the other.

Let's put it this way. Even though I am awfully glad for freedom of speech in the good ol' U.S. of A., I'm also glad we will surely get a respite from all that speech for a little bit before they have to blast each other in preparation for the November general election.

Hallelujah and God Bless America!