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I got up earlier than usual (5:57 a.m.), and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cattitude and I were out the door and on our way to vote about 6:25 (showered, breakfasted, and carrying my tea).
There were longer lines than I'm used to when I go to vote around 8 (we've been voting in the same building since 1987, which is a couple of dozen elections [yes, primaries count]), but they moved quickly, I think in part because it was a fairly short ballot: president, senate, house of representatives, state senate and assembly, and some judgeships that didn't really count (because the number of candidates equalled the number of positions), with no bond issues or proposed changes to the state constitution or the city charter. I voted the straight Working Familes line (all cross-endorsed with the Democrats), then picked a few judges at random.
Having been voter number 21, election after election, at 8 a.m., I was pleased to be handed number 36 at 6:30. (They have four election districts--basically, subdivisions that matter only for procedural electoral reasons--voting in that building, covering I'm not sure how many city blocks.) The woman who had me sign the book--who had looked at us when we walked in the door, stated our address, and pointed us to the correct line--said something about my showing up reliably, and I observed that my grandmother would spin in her grave if I didn't. She then said that they should get me to work there (helping run the election), and I said I probably would one of these days. They're long days for not much pay, but if I weren't otherwise employed I'd probably be doing it. (This, by the way, is a large part of why the average age of part-time election workers is about 65: it's not suited to anyone with either regular paid employment or children to care for.)
I got to Penn Station almost ten minutes earlier than I usually do: we could have stopped to look at the waterbirds on our way through the park afterwards.
cattitude and I were out the door and on our way to vote about 6:25 (showered, breakfasted, and carrying my tea).There were longer lines than I'm used to when I go to vote around 8 (we've been voting in the same building since 1987, which is a couple of dozen elections [yes, primaries count]), but they moved quickly, I think in part because it was a fairly short ballot: president, senate, house of representatives, state senate and assembly, and some judgeships that didn't really count (because the number of candidates equalled the number of positions), with no bond issues or proposed changes to the state constitution or the city charter. I voted the straight Working Familes line (all cross-endorsed with the Democrats), then picked a few judges at random.
Having been voter number 21, election after election, at 8 a.m., I was pleased to be handed number 36 at 6:30. (They have four election districts--basically, subdivisions that matter only for procedural electoral reasons--voting in that building, covering I'm not sure how many city blocks.) The woman who had me sign the book--who had looked at us when we walked in the door, stated our address, and pointed us to the correct line--said something about my showing up reliably, and I observed that my grandmother would spin in her grave if I didn't. She then said that they should get me to work there (helping run the election), and I said I probably would one of these days. They're long days for not much pay, but if I weren't otherwise employed I'd probably be doing it. (This, by the way, is a large part of why the average age of part-time election workers is about 65: it's not suited to anyone with either regular paid employment or children to care for.)
I got to Penn Station almost ten minutes earlier than I usually do: we could have stopped to look at the waterbirds on our way through the park afterwards.