Monday, October 6, 2008

Don't register to vote in DC... try it, I dare you.

My Aunt just reminded me (yet again) to register to vote... Many of you--locals--may be aware of the massive campaign to rock the vote (i.e. Ba-rock the vote, partisan?) that has hit the metro like a fire at Metro Center (historic reference #1). If you are not, than you must either: be richer than me, never leave the house, or never watch MTV. I, of course, am none of the above. If I were richer than me, then that would be a pretty cool party trick. The point being, that voter promotion campaigns have hit the streets like an LA riot (historic reference #2) and I, a poor independent, was less than prepared (me < prepared) for the shock of having to explain a not so well developed political perspective to hordes of voter enthusiasts barracking me in the face with civic duty (pun so intended). My caring Aunt got wind of this and offered her wisdom, which was followed weekly prompts and prods to get off of my button and register. Not many times in my life do I associate well with an angry mule, but this being one of them I felt the need to respond to her with the following message.

"Yea I registered to vote. ‘Ended up being that I couldn't not register to vote. Every time I hit the metro some overly excited cute girl had a clipboard and a smile waiting for me. No decent person who took the metro in the past 3 months could escape their powers. I felt like a dolphin in a tuna net: it was very strategic of them... I resisted at first, signaling that had somewhere to go, very Scrooge of me. But after copious attempts at faking somewhere important to be... my defenses broke down like a west coast football team and they reeled me in, not even the catch of the day. (I felt dirty, and used, and registered)."

Maybe its because I'm disillusioned with politicians, maybe its because I'm becoming a grumpy old man, or maybe its because to the best of my own capabilities I really can't resist a good conversation with a cute girl, but the legend has it that Lincoln's heart did not grow three sizes that day. Fact it stayed the same because its made of platinum.

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