"I voted in the dead of night, slipping through the miasma of light and exhaust... in the cold glare of lights and grim faces, I cast my ballot through the slot. My civic duty done, I rushed back through the throng, into the darkness..."

At least... that's the way I saw it.

Vector Control

In reality, I spent nearly an hour driving through downtown San Jose, in the dead of the night, peering into industrial complexes, wondering where that darn "flagpole" was, as indicated on my ballot packet. After having checked and rechecked my printed out map, I decided it might be hiding behind the army of delivery trucks, near the industrial complex amply labelled "Vector Control", and behind the listing of departmental signs indicating all of the pests and toxins controlled by that particular office.

In fact, it was right behind that building, that I discovered the tiny white ballot box, near the flagpole, where a long line of signs, indicated the location of the ballot box. No street lights lit up those signs, turning what was a cheery looking patriotic voting face into a dark and tortured expression, mirroring the feelings of those who had been meandering through the industrial zone to find the voting ballot box.

While this is nowhere near the life threatening experience of voting, back in the day. I cannot help but wonder whether or not the terror and horror has merely become more subtle. Much like the notice posted in the disused lavatory, in the basement, where the lights had gone out, and where one might find signs indicating that one should beware of a certain ferocious feline.

Refreshingly, there were no pollsters, no reporters, and certainly no crowds or throngs. Only tired and dedicated folks who want to perform their patriotic duty.

And so, for the voting year of 2008, I delivered ballots for myself and my wife. Appropriately signed, dated, labelled, and countersigned.

Sadly, no photograph marks this occasion. But perhaps, the vote will show its mark in the future of our nation.

~ Wing