Right now I am working in another state. Not ideal since it's P's last year at home. I miss him fiercely. And although I'd grown used to being at home without Boo, now that I'm away, I miss him all over again, too. The upside is, we talk more when I'm away and we IM a lot. We IMed all election night.
I didn't make a big fuss of the two elections before Obama. From a liberal overprotective mother's POV, those administrations were the equivalent of snuff films. NSFW. NSFC.
But that night in 2008 that I hoped Obama would be elected, I took them to an election party. The non-voters spent most of the night in a back room playing Rock Band and eating junk food. They came out for the returns, wearing their blue shirts and chanting OBAMA, and when they disappeared, most of our half-drunk beers had vanished. Who cared? I was texting with a friend from Belgium, an elderly woman danced around the room, my Russian friend celebrated her first election. So that was Boo's introduction to election night.
This year he was old enough to vote. We made sure he was registered, but getting him from school to our hometown polls was a problem. I am across the country and can't help. I suggested he get a parking place on campus for the week, I suggested his father drive him. No traction. I gave up.
I talked to him Monday night.
My first vote, he said. How are you going to get there, I asked, worrying that he had mistakenly though he could vote in his college town.
But no, he had arranged for a friend to drive three hours to get him from school to the polls and back And so he voted a straight blue ticket and texted me a picture.
That's my boy. To the party who wants to gut help for people who need it, who write off the unlucky as undeserving: My son, despite his disability and thanks to our state's generous help, pays taxes and votes for your opponent.
I didn't make a big fuss of the two elections before Obama. From a liberal overprotective mother's POV, those administrations were the equivalent of snuff films. NSFW. NSFC.
But that night in 2008 that I hoped Obama would be elected, I took them to an election party. The non-voters spent most of the night in a back room playing Rock Band and eating junk food. They came out for the returns, wearing their blue shirts and chanting OBAMA, and when they disappeared, most of our half-drunk beers had vanished. Who cared? I was texting with a friend from Belgium, an elderly woman danced around the room, my Russian friend celebrated her first election. So that was Boo's introduction to election night.
This year he was old enough to vote. We made sure he was registered, but getting him from school to our hometown polls was a problem. I am across the country and can't help. I suggested he get a parking place on campus for the week, I suggested his father drive him. No traction. I gave up.
I talked to him Monday night.
My first vote, he said. How are you going to get there, I asked, worrying that he had mistakenly though he could vote in his college town.
But no, he had arranged for a friend to drive three hours to get him from school to the polls and back And so he voted a straight blue ticket and texted me a picture.
That's my boy. To the party who wants to gut help for people who need it, who write off the unlucky as undeserving: My son, despite his disability and thanks to our state's generous help, pays taxes and votes for your opponent.
1 comments:
That is hilarious ...he took a picture. Rebel son :)
I didn't make a big fuss of the two elections before Obama. From a liberal overprotective mother's POV, those administrations were the equivalent of snuff films. NSFW. NSFC.
But that night in 2008 that I hoped Obama would be elected, I took them to an election party. The non-voters spent most of the night in a back room playing Rock Band and eating junk food. They came out for the returns, wearing their blue shirts and chanting OBAMA, and when they disappeared, most of our half-drunk beers had vanished. Who cared? I was texting with a friend from Belgium, an elderly woman danced around the room, my Russian friend celebrated her first election. So that was Boo's introduction to election night.
This year he was old enough to vote. We made sure he was registered, but getting him from school to our hometown polls was a problem. I am across the country and can't help. I suggested he get a parking place on campus for the week, I suggested his father drive him. No traction. I gave up.
I talked to him Monday night.
My first vote, he said. How are you going to get there, I asked, worrying that he had mistakenly though he could vote in his college town.
But no, he had arranged for a friend to drive three hours to get him from school to the polls and back And so he voted a straight blue ticket and texted me a picture.
That's my boy. To the party who wants to gut help for people who need it, who write off the unlucky as undeserving: My son, despite his disability and thanks to our state's generous help, pays taxes and votes for your opponent.
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