I wish I'd written down his name, so I could call him in Wisconsin to ask him what he thinks now. I wrote the diary titled "Virgin voter at age 69" on Sept. 27, 2008. About a dozen people commented.
Somehow, I doubt that he's a happy camper.
I hope it's kosher to do this. This is what I wrote then:
The way he pulled in and parked his car and strode purposefully toward my voter registration table on a strip mall sidewalk made me think it was a Republican ready to berate me for practicing democracy in a public place.
I thought that because the day before two cops had questioned what I was doing there. They said someone had called to complain. . . . I was registering [as a special deputy] in this location as a volunteer for the League of Women Voters, strictly nonpartisan. My sign includes their motto: Democracy is not a spectator sport.
As the man, a casually but nicely dressed older Caucasian, handed me his driver's license I asked if this was a change of address. "No, he said, "this is the first time in my life that I am going to vote. I've never been registered."
Three days before the diary went up, John McCain "suspended" his presidential campaign so he could attend the Wall Street bailout negotiations in Washington, D.C. At a White House meeting the next day, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson "dropped to one knee, clasped his hands in front of his face as if he were praying and said, 'Please, please, don't blow this up. Give me some time.' " Paulson's $700 billion bank bailout plan fit on three pages.
After the House voted it down, the Dow dropped 770 points. The bill was eventually approved Oct. 3 and signed into law by President Bush.
The virgin voter diary continued:
Oh, I said, looking at his license, which listed his age as 69, and seeing he was born 48 years and one day before my youngest daughter. "What made you decide to do this now?"
He answered that he'd always thought one person's vote really didn't matter or make much of a difference. "We really need to make a change," he said.
Noncommittally I said that both candidates are pushing the change idea. "Everything is being run for the millionaires," he said unhappily. We chatted a bit more and away he drove.
I think the change he envisions is the Obama brand, though neither of us mentioned the name. You don't not vote for close to five decades and then decide to register to vote for McCain. Remember this: McCain already ran for president eight years ago and he's married to a woman worth more than $100 million.
I don't think that's the change my voter was believing in.
"My voter" is 72 now, I hope. Whom will he vote for in 2012, I wonder, or will he decide his first-ever vote was a fruitless exercise?