Wake up. Election Day, Nov. 8, is almost here. The steady supply of publicity about state and local issues and the colossal amount of time and money spent on the presidential race indicate the importance of the outcome. Unfortunately, many people from both sides are unhappy with their party’s choice to the point they may just stay home.
If you are one of them, I urge you, I beg you, to fulfill your duty as an American. Let your voice be heard about the many issues that concern you. Remember, no rule says you must choose between every candidate and every policy on the ballot. If you don’t like either choice, it is perfectly legal to leave the boxes unchecked. If, after studying the local and national candidates and issues, you still are perplexed or can’t decide on a choice, don’t do anything. Checking a box willy-nilly can result in a policy or person directly opposed to you and the LGBT community.
The new president’s term will be for four to eight years, but the new Supreme Court will influence and control us for 25-30 years. Soon, three (!) new court members (one is on stage and two are in the wings) will determine the future of LGBT life in America. All we have recently gained could be erased or weakened if the wrong people are elected. The president’s choices to the court must be approved or rejected by the Senate. Therefore, it is vital that your vote supports the senator who will act in your/our interests.
It is possible the stay-at-homers will benefit the other side. Don’t allow this to happen. If you wish, leave some boxes unchecked, but, please, vote for the others. If you don’t, you can’t complain about the results.
An unexpected miracle
My partner, Yohei, and I just returned from Maine and, as is his wont, he proceeded to clean the apartment. It had sat untouched for two weeks, but he felt it needed freshening up. Naturally, I leaped to help; swishing the dust around and in general, impeding his progress. After I casually mentioned we were out of ice cream, it was decided the supply should be replenished at once. I reluctantly ceased my labors and went out to the store.
On my return I was greeted excitedly, told to shut my eyes and then pulled into the bedroom. My heart be still. I remembered the first time I had such an experience: Berlin, 1985, a cold, rainy night, a lesbian biker bar, a dirty sign pointing to the basement, “Daddy’s Youth Hostel.” Needing a place to sleep, I … but I digress.
I was then instructed to listen carefully … silence … “Listen.” Slowly it came to me; the ticking of my beloved antique clock. It had suddenly stopped four months ago and no amount of jiggling, pounding or pleading had any effect. My local clockmaker said he’d try to fix it for $250, minimum. I decided silence improved meditation. Now, to my amazement it was working. While vacuuming he felt a presence and a voice told him to give it a try. So he did. He pushed the pendulum and three times it started swinging, but then slowly came to a stop even though the chimes tested perfectly.
Exasperated, he sternly warned the trash-can was waiting and (finger-wag) he wasn’t kidding. Another push and lo, the wag worked. It started and continues to tick. The hourly gong and quarterly chimes drive the neighbors crazy, but they lull me to sleep. All thanks to my miracle worker.
