Tennessee is vulnerable to a "my vote doesn't count" mindset because practically everyone running is safe one way or another.
The latest polling here shows McCain ahead by 19 points, but there hasn't been a statewide poll taken here in nearly three weeks (Sept. 29). Aggregate polling by 538 puts McCain's current edge at about 56-42.
Lamar! is beating Bob Tuke by roughly the same margin. The nine-member House delegation all have safe seats and we'll continue the 5-4 Democratic edge, though four of our side's five are Blue Dogs.
But when my son and I cast our ballots on the first day of early voting, which was Wednesday, I was blown away by how long it took.
We voted in Rutherford County (suburban Nashville) where I was told there were just two polling places open, with two more due to come on line Monday. We went to the Tennessee Rehabilitation Center site right after work, arriving at about 5:55 pm to find a line out the door.
The line was composed of a delightfully diverse mix of people, and we enjoyed plenty of conversation while we waited. There were senior citizens, men and women, about five moms with kids in tow, business people, a mix of black, white and a couple of Asians. There were even two women who, if appearances were any indicator, could have been lesbian. And, this being Tennessee, one woman with a McCain-Palin sweatshirt.
I counted 35 people out the door, and when I got close enough to see inside, I guess-timated that another 15-20 could fit. That doesn't sound like much, but it took well over an hour before I could vote. By the time they closed the doors at 7 pm, herding the last 35-or-so voters inside, I was just stepping up to the table to present my registration card.
Once inside I was surprised to see that, though there were eight voting machines arrayed about half the gymnasium, at no time did I see more than four of them occupied. Usually it was just one or two, and at one point, no one was at a machine casting their ballot.
The bottleneck, it seems, is the computerized process that verifies your registration, something everyone was subjected to. When you reached the head of the line, there were three poll workers arrayed before flat-screens and printers. They checked your ID and voter registration card, and then waited for the computer to look you up.
And waited. . .
And waited. . .
Maybe it was the high volume of the first day, overwhelming the state (county?) database. The gentleman who helped me said that county-wide, there had been 3,800 ballots cast that first day in a county of 240,000 people. He said the line had been out the door all day and had not let up from the moment they opened. The next day, a co-worker told me Davidson County, which includes Nashville, had 16,000 in a population of about 620,000. A lot of my friends and co-workers say they are waiting until later in the early voting period when the crowds will be smaller.
When he finally found me in the database and printed a confirmation for me to sign, everything was smooth sailing. The voting machines themselves, MicroVote Infinitys, were straight-forward and quick to use, though I got no paper verification of how I had voted.
In case you're wondering: Between my son and I, two votes for Obama, Tuke, Bart Gordon, and two yes votes on a local initiative to allow package liquor stores in our town (oh, please let it pass so I don't have to drive 20 minutes for a bottle of shiraz!).
But I couldn't help but be frustrated by the length of time I had to wait to vote. I've had the good fortune to always live where the waits were short and polling machines plentiful. Until now, Rutherford County was one of those places, too. This was a new experience, and gives me a fresh appreciation for those folks who live in under-served communities and have to wait hours in line to vote.
Turnout is going to be high this year, even if we are a "doesn't count" state. If the database access doesn't speed up, I foresee a lot of frustrated voters in Tennessee.