gloomy democracy

During the fall of my senior year of high school, I went out with a couple of friends to steal campaign signs. We gathered them up from various corners around town, stacked them up in the back of the car, and delivered them all to the front lawn of a boy one of us (or all of us) liked. At the time, we thought that our actions were both a) rebellious and b) meaningful. Oh and we also thought we were funny. How wrong we were on all accounts.

So now it's fall again, election time again, and I am older. Today, I drove past dozens of campaign signs. I didn't steal any of them, but I did sort of want to pull down all of the ones for Mr. Orrin (because really wouldn't the world be better off if he could just dedicate all of his time to his music?) I went to my polling station at the Parklane Senior Apartments. I used the fancy new voting machine and made all of my choices; I opted not to do the easy straight ticket option because for some reason I like the act of selecting each candidate. I am more of a citizen than I was back in high school, stealing campaign signs. I can vote; I make choices based on research, thoughtful consideration, and firm hope for change. But I am not certain that my act now is any more meaningful than stealing campaign signs was back in high school. I will watch election returns tonight and I will see that most of what I voted for, hoped for will not go my way. I may get one or two nods that my opinion matters. But most likely, I will have to wait another two years, biting my lip, hoping for change.