Precinct Inspector Rutherford

November is election time here in Indiana. I volunteered to “work the polls”. I’m a big fan of a true populist democracy and, as every year passes, am increasingly concerned about its future. So, it seemed like a perfect fit: an opportunity to help voters have a good voting experience, ensuring repeat customers, especially in light of the hulabaloo about the last election here because of botched records and polling place mayhem.

Of course, no good cause comes without a catch. I have to report downtown at 4:30 am. AM! Apres morning. I just looked it up and it’s actually Ante Meridiem (Latin for before noon, not French for after morning).

Anyway, I could not care less about democracy and its privilege to vote before sunrise.

Or do I? Maybe democracy is why I haven’t had to care about certain things, like bombs and mortar shells and police states and home invasions, in the middle of the night.

It’s the reason I get to choose my beliefs and speak publicly about them. I get to assemble and protest. I get freedoms and pursuits. I get to worship whomever I choose.

It’s the reason I don’t have to worry about it in the middle of the night. It’s like the good kid in the family.

But it desperately needs tending to. So 4:30, it is.

Besides, another checkmark in the pro column is that my job title for the day is Precinct Inspector. I wonder if I get a badge. I bet I get a clipboard. I think I get minimum wage, too.

Me, me, me. I’m democratic after all.