Mid-Term Elections: Oh Well...

Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-------!
The cat stood on the keyboard and inadvertently expressed my opinion about our election results.

What hurts most? In our little town it could be the loss on Measure C, a modest request for school funding. Having spent 30 years in education washing cars and icing cupcakes to raise funds, I feel the pain of those still in it. It’s quite demoralizing when a community backs away from its schools.

I know, I know, I know. The economy. And of course, each voter has a personal reason for saying yes or no. It’s just that when you’re on the front lines, slogging through the mandates and the muck, when so much depends on what a school does for its students and its town, when so many people seem to be standing on the periphery watching, clicking their tongues and shaking their heads, but not offering $5.00 a month to help…it’s hard to take.

Of course that required 2/3 majority made a heavy anchor, too. But my not-too-scientific calculation says that in our little town, only 306 more affirmative votes could have carried the day. Who stayed home, darn it! Students and teachers in every town and district need help.

Maybe we should consider a measure for Benicia similar to statewide Proposition 25, lowering the required majority to a simple 50%+1. I notice some other cities require a 55% majority to pass certain types of fund raisers. Sixty-two percent of Benicia voters approved Measure C – but it wasn’t enough. How is it that 38% of the voters get to tell 62% of the voters how it will be?

Proposition 21’s failure is deflating, as well. Funding for State Parks and Wildlife Programs at a buck fifty per month was just too much. No matter all the analysis or rationalization I employ, this decision eludes me. Perhaps if the measure is re-written asking for only $10 per vehicle registration, it would carry. Maybe the DMV could put a voluntary donation option on the registration renewal form, similar to the option to donate to the Presidential election campaign on our federal tax forms. More people might be encouraged to give something to our parks and wildlife, the essence of beauty and well-being in our state.

Oh, good news in the election? Sure! Proposition 25 passed! Perhaps we will have a state budget complete and on time since the legislators’ paychecks now depend on it. I heard a concern that they might pass a hurried and therefore flawed budget under these circumstances. That could be true. But we will only notice that it’s on time. The flaws we’re already used to.

With the passage of Proposition 20, we took redistricting out of the chicken house, so the foxes will have to find more legitimate means of bolstering their election results. That’s good.

On a national front, no witches will have a seat in Congress. That can only be a good thing, though sometimes an incantation might still be in order.

The President got a message he seemed to need to hear. I hope he makes the most of it. I hope his opponents don’t get caught up in gloating, or make his mistake of forcing legislation just because they can. It’s such poor form and so far off point.

Any more good news? Sure! The San Francisco Giants won the World Series of Baseball! They did it on a budget of $98million dollars, about $40million less than a certain unsuccessful gubernatorial candidate.

Through 160 torturous regular season games, and a jubilant post season with sports heroes and characters aplenty, they prevailed. Whenever I grew weary of political rhetoric, and dubious of the candidates’ claims, all I had to do was tune into Tim Lincecum v. Chris Lee, or Edgar Renteria at bat, or OOOO-ribe, or Posey behind the plate.

It gives you hope. If that ragtag bunch of talented individuals could come together as a team, setting their egos aside to reach such a pinnacle, maybe our elected officials could do the same.

The Giants gutted it out through a gauntlet rivaling any political minefield or caucus, and emerged victorious, not just for themselves. Okay, maybe they did it for themselves, but their victory elevated us too.

Politicians could take a lesson. They could focus on our common goals, put their heads down, sacrifice for the team, and make something really big happen for our state and our country. Go Democracy! Go Giants!

What's a Voter to Do?

I married into a nest of Republicans. In this family, a game established by the patriarch entails a set of questions of his device, always about events of the day and politics. After every holiday meal, all generations debate the answers, singing out in happy banter, voicing their insights, opinions, and assertions, all decidedly to the right of center.

My beloved father-in-law and his three children, including my husband, all have advanced college degrees. The same for their spouses, and their children, and now even their children’s spouses, our son being the only exception. (He went to technical school and remains single, thank God.)

It makes an impressive collection of conservatives working on pumpkin pie and whipped cream.

Arriving from a blue collar family in Oklahoma made up of teachers, oil refinery workers, deputy clerks in the county office, and postal employees, I kept quiet at the California dinner table for a long time. My mom and I are the only ones with any college on the Oklahoma side of my life. Back there, we were the sages. But if we mentioned our bachelor’s or master’s degrees, we’d only be showing off. And the conversations on Aunt June’s floral velvet sofa after an orgy of mashed potatoes and gravy heaped on turkey and green beans never approached the erudition of my West Coast family.

Somewhere during my acclimation, I remember hearing that only Democrats have hearts, and only Republicans have brains. There I found my rationale for becoming independent of party affiliations. I have a heart and a brain, and I vote all over the ballot.

Lately, though, neither my intellect nor my conscience can find comfort.

I listen to the debates; I read the stuff in the paper and the voter’s pamphlets. I put x’s and o’s on the chart in the “Election 2010” section of the Times like a gridiron coach developing a play book, choosing quarterbacks and defensive linesmen. I try not to be a one issue voter. I think about the economy and education and jobs and taxes and immigration.

But my guts count for something. And this candidate makes my shoulders sag. That one makes me hold my nose. Too many candidates seem like more of the same self-serving do-nothing office-holding politicos, unwilling or unable to do more than join the pack and play self-righteous. Any candidates who do seem fresh and selfless also seem doomed to be swallowed into the belly of the business-as-usual whale.

It’s crazy making! What’s a voter to do? Choose a stinker, or throw your vote away in feeble protest.

What I’d like to do is grab the table by its edge and flip it skyward. Start over. New game. New players. New strategy. New plan. I understand why some people don’t want to play at all.

Yet I marked my vote-by-mail ballot and sent it off to be counted. Why?

Maybe I voted because 21 people were killed in Karachi, Pakistan, during elections there. No one’s going to shoot me to keep me from participating in our frustrating democracy, though my exasperated brother-in-law sometimes shakes his head at me.

Maybe I voted because in the face of seemingly fossilized opinions and limited enlightenment, we elected a black man; and now we are mad at him not because he’s black, but because he hasn’t solved our problems fast enough.

Maybe I voted because I want to be heard. The action of voting says I do not give up and become a conspiracy-theory survivalist living in a commune with shotguns, “keep out” signs, and trip wires. I use the system to improve the system. I will not slink away in bitterness and retreat.

Maybe I voted because I’m just now starting to get it. At sixty, I’m finally beginning to understand enough of the intricacies of human nature, of complex systems, of long-term change, and yes, of politics, that by voting, my hope and belief are renewed.

Wow. Who knew? Renewed hope. Renewed belief. Voting: a shot of B-12 for the campaign weary.

In fact, now that I think of it, no nest of Republicans or Democrats can keep me from voting.

I voted...Will you?