Living History

For the first time since I've been eligible to vote for the President of the United States, I'm excited and terrified by the possible outcome of this election. Excited by the possibility of change. Terrified by the possibility of the status quo.



I turned 18 in 1986 with Regan in office. Two years later, while still not old enough to drink, I was given my first opportunity to vote for our nation's leader. The choice was between George H. Bush (The Weenie) and Michael Dukakis (The Dork). I honestly can't remember who I voted for but I'm assuming George Bush since I was a Republican and I don't remember being very hopped up about Dukakis.

At 7:12am this morning, I walked into the community rec center and cast my vote for Barack Hussein Obama, a Harvard educated black man with an African/Arabic name. I can't ever remember being excited about a Presidential candidate. I've never wanted to give money, or volunteer. I never understood people who were so passionate about one candidate or another. They all seemed rather lame to me. It was more about picking the best of the worst.

But I always voted. I'm a strong believer in our right to vote. I believe it is a gift that is awarded to the citizens of this country. We assume it's a inalienable right, but history says otherwise. It should be cherished. And on a more practical note, I believe that if you and your peers vote, as a group, you will be recognized by government and pandered to. There's a reason why senior citizens in this country are heard and young people are not. Old people vote. Young people don't. Historically.

For the past two elections, I've been one of those frustrating voters known as undecided. I honestly didn't know who I was going to vote for until November 4th. I simply didn't like either of them. In our last election, I voted for a Libertarian candidate. I can't even remember his name. It wasn't important because I knew he had no chance of winning. I wanted to be counted. To say I was there and that I voted. I wanted the politicians to know that there was a 36 year old, white male, living in Goshen, New Jersey that voted. And he didn't vote for you.

I feel like I did between the first half of Game 5 of the World Series and the conclusion 46 hours later. Excited and nervous. Excited that Obama could win. Nervous that the polls are wrong and he won't. If I was a betting man, and since I'm not superstitious, I'd say Obama is going to win by a fairly large margin. Dare I say landslide?

We'll see tomorrow, or maybe even later tonight. Hopefully I will be celebrating and not gnashing my teeth and packing up to join my brother in Canada.