My wife and I returned our absentee ballots to the Stark County Board of Elections a few weekends ago.
It feels good. Not only because we’ve performed our civic duty — and early! — but because it means no unforeseen circumstances will keep our voices from being heard.
Said unforeseen circumstances in this most hideous of years could range from a burning case of diarrhea to a swarm of murder hornets. As Dickens once remarked of Scrooge, waiting for the second spirit to visit, “nothing between a baby and a rhinoceros would have astonished him very much,” and so it has been with the unraveling of 2020.
Another reason why it feels good to have a ballot cast is because it’s a get-out-of-jail-free card. I can now safely ignore all the rigamarole of the last few weeks — that final debate, the back-and-forth sniping from candidates and followers, the falling dominoes of increasingly desperate October surprises and the polls polls polls showing one candidate waxing as the other wanes. (And if you don’t like today’s numbers, change the channel or wait until tomorrow.)
Not that all this isn’t important, because it is. But none of it can change my mind now, even if I wanted it to. It’s the political iteration of the Serenity Prayer.
With this in mind, I’m spending the next few days not engaging in politics as much as possible. I know there is a degree of privilege in this, of which I am cognizant and for which I am grateful.
So while I am not engaging in political discourse, I will instead:
• Read seasonal favorites like Edgar Allan Poe’s “Cask of Amontillado” and “Ligeia.”
• Take a long run and soak up visions of autumn’s finery.
• Walk the dog.
• Mow the grass for what I hope is the last time this year.
• Grade papers (the bane of every teacher’s existence).
• Think up new ways to torment … I mean, engage students at high levels.
• Wear a mask in public (which, despite what some might believe, is completely non-political and just common sense).
• Help my wife shop online for early Christmas gifts, which usually consists of asking repeatedly if she’s found anything for me.
• Think about shopping online for her but decide to wait until closer to Christmas, like maybe Dec. 24.
• Drag the last pieces of patio furniture into storage.
• Sleep.
There might come a time in the near future when a potential assault on our democratic norms means I must speak up and make my voice heard, but not this weekend. Depending on how long it takes votes to be counted, it might not be next weekend either.
But it could be coming, and it’s best to be rested and prepared. I’ll watch and read the news, ponder perspectives from multiple sources, but not perseverate on any one outcome. And I’ll know when to tune it out and just be.
I advise other people who have already voted to do the same, just as I encourage anybody who is registered but has not yet returned an absentee ballot to complete that task, and those who plan to vote in person on Tuesday to follow through on this intention.
Otherwise, pick your battles. Metaphorically, of course.
And if you have any sure-fire preventative measures for murder hornets, let me know, huh? Because 2020 just keeps coming.
chris.schillig@yahoo.com
@cschillig on Twitter
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