In the future, when my yet unborn sons/daughters, from a currently non-existent wife are able to cast their ballot via brain waves or some other awesome technology that has yet to be discovered, they will look back on this diary in awe. Awe of the remarkable journey that their father undertook, just to make his voice heard.
To them I say, "Kids, I wouldn't have wanted it to happen any other way."
6:45AM: "Holy crap!" Push snooze bar. (Kids, pushing the snooze bar is a bad habit to start. Put your alarm clock across the room so you have to get out of bed to get to it.)
6:53AM: In the interest of truthfulness, I will note that I pushed the snooze bar again.
7:01AM: Get washed and dressed for work. (Kids, in the old days before sonic showers or whatever it is that you might use now, people relied on water to get clean. For the most part we also operated under the assumption that the water itself was also clean. True story, some people tested the ice cubes and the toilet water at a fast food restaurant. The toilet water had less bacteria in it. No, it wasn't every fast food restaurant, probably just the one you are thinking about going to next. Eat a banana.)
7:28AM: Stand in kitchen debating the plusses and minuses of having a cup of coffee before getting into what will unquestionably be a long line. (Kids, coffee would go through your grandfather in 13.5 minutes. He passed those genes on to me, I have passed them on to you. Consider yourself fairly warned.)
7:30AM: My bladder wins the argument.
7:32:00AM: Step out into another gloriously warm Georgia morn-
7:32:10AM: Grab coat.
8:05AM: Surprise and joy at a remarkably quick and uneventful Georgia commute fades as I approach the polling place. A very different kind of surprise and joy takes over as I survey the overflowing parking lot, and the cars lining the street on both sides.
8:06AM: I'm feeling a little less joy as I pull into a street spot at the bottom of a hill and approximately 5 miles away from my destination. (Kids, when you are telling stories to your own children, it's always acceptable to exaggerate distance. Also, in any scenario where you have to walk to accomplish something, it must always be uphill. Always.)
8:15AM: After walking 5 miles uphill, I reach the end of the line of voters. My casual estimate places me about 400th in line with 15 minutes to go before the polls open.
8:25AM: Perhaps another 30-35 people have gathered behind me in line as the doors open and the line surges forward as those up front are led into the building. The first sense of false optimism comes from a woman in front of me, "I heard they waited 4 hours yesterday, but we seem to be moving pretty well this morning!" No one has the heart to tell her it's just because the building opened, not because anyone has voted.
8:33AM: Unconfirmed rumor spreads like wildfire that someone has actually voted.
8:48AM: I note that it would be a fine business opportunity to own a mobile Chick-Fil-A. Scanning the line, I begin to calculate the killing I could've made had I driven up in one.
9:05AM: Friendly poll worker swings by my section of the line to let us know that we were approximately two and a half to three hours away from the front. Just like Disney World.
9:32AM: Stomach rumbles. Now I wish someone else had come up with my brilliant mobile Chick-Fil-A scheme. (Lesson here, kids. Don't skip breakfast.)
10:00AM: I reach the front door of Space Mountain the library, and continuing the Disney theme, I note the line snaking up and down the hall inside the building as well. The still friendly poll worker gives us paperwork to fill out, and announces just another hour to go. (Yes kids, the lines are long at Disney. Stop asking me to go. Wouldn't you rather have a pony anyway?)
10:25AM: I've been watching as I approach the circulation desk, and no less than 10 people in the section of line right in front of me have signed up for library cards as they've passed the desk. Commie book sharers!
10:36 & 10:47AM: Looking for some pre-voting mojo, I make a couple of comments on DKos using my phone. (Yes, kids, I could use the internet on my phone. It wasn't the stone ages. Go ask grandma what a rotary phone was.)
10:58AM: I make the final turn and have just one stretch of hallway before the magic happens. A poll worker swings by to check my ID and look over my paperwork.
11:10AM: A poll worker states to another that the line outside is longer now than it was when the polls first opened that morning. Something amazing is going on, and I'm thrilled that I got to play my part.
11:16AM: After checking in, I'm handed my digital card that holds the ballot.
11:17AM: I step to my machine, insert my card, and proudly select the box located next to the names Barack Obama and Joe Biden.
11:20AM: I push the cast ballot button, and fingers crossed, help make history in under five hours.
Kids, you can do the same. GOTV.