Sheep In A Booth.

Well, your civic-minded Sheep did her part to keep the wheels of Democracy running smoothly today and proudly cast her ballot. Sheep are known far and wide as supporters of "the process."

I am one of the lucky ones. I get to vote in a "small town." Seriously...it doesn't get any better than this. We all troop up to the local high school in order that we might make known our political wishes. And when I say, "all" I do mean all. My town is small enough that we only need one polling place. You actually know several of the people on the ballot and often base your vote on that knowledge. "How is that Bob thinks he can pull off being Treasurer? He doesn't even mow his lawn, fa cryin' out loud!" Good times...

Up until six years ago, our voting process went as follows. We all entered the gym and followed the hand-lettered signs to tables marked with other signs indicating where we should register based on our last name. We gave our names to the sweet little old ladies manning the first stop in our salute to the Democratic process, then gave them again as the sweet little old ladies really couldn't hear us what with all the echoing in the high school gym. We were then handed our ballots, given our voting instructions and sent on our way. And they always called us, "dear."

Once safely ensconced within the security of the booth with the red, white and blue canvas flap carefully positioned between us and any possible prying eyes, we were faced with the following: a metal shelf upon which to support our ballot, typed and laminated examples of proper ballot marking and a golf pencil. That's right...a golf pencil. And it was attached to the booth frame with fishing line. We then marked our ballots by placing an X in the correct boxes. The X must not go outside of the box or your ballot was null and void.

When finished, we took our ballots to "the guy." The Guy was positioned next to a large, wooden box. As you stood before the box, The Guy pulled back the sliding cover and you dropped your ballot into the box. Year after year it was the same Guy. Always in a plaid flannel shirt and always in a jaunty cap. Sure, after a few political seasons, someone needed to get The Guy a stool from the shop class so that he could rest a bit but otherwise, there was little in the way of change.

And we respected the process. No one challenged The Guy's authority over the box. In fact, great care was taken to avoid making contact with the box during the drop process as we all sort of believed that the mere touch of our hand might invalidate the ballots and cast us all back to the days of the monarchy.

When we were done, he thanked us kindly and sent us off to get our sticker. The nice, round one that says, "I voted today!" I mean, I vote because it's the right thing to do and all. But, seriously...I'll do anything for a sticker. I loves me a good sticker...

All this changed in 2000, however. My little town decided to upgrade a bit and I found myself faced with a "ballot-sucker" when I completed the voting process. Frankly, the missing golf pencil should have been a clue, but I didn't catch it. I guess I assumed that they ran out and replaced them with the black markers. My fellow voters and I were all somewhat flummoxed when it was time to formally cast our ballot. Gone was The Guy. The big blue box was no more. We were being asked to slide our ballot into a fancy, shmancy gizmo that sucked it right out of our hands!

Voting took a little bit longer that year.

In the intervening years, we have all gotten a bit more comfortable with the process and hardly anyone flinches when they put their ballot in the sucker-thingy. But I still wonder what happened to The Guy. He isn't standing there with that quiet air of dignity, monitoring the machine. My guess is that he took his box and went home after the 2000 election and just sits beside it reminiscing about days gone by come November. I miss him.

And no one gave me a sticker this year. Poop.

Here's hoping that everyone made it out today and cast their ballots. You may not get to elect the dude with the best kept lawn or watch leery locals attempt to get their minds around such new fangled technology as a ballot-sucker, but you get to be heard. And that does matter.

Like many folks, I sometimes wonder if there is a chance for peace in our time. However, tonight, I saw evidence of hope in this era of strife. Two creatures who have harbored utter hatred in their hearts for one another saw fit to unite in one awe inspiring gesture to warm their Sheepy Mommy as she knit on the couch.

Yes...the parties can work together for the common good!

Well, for ten minutes at any rate...

SA