Super Tuesday

Last Tuesday night, 11 p.m. 

Let me start with the coolest part of my Tuesday: My pal, Deb (Tessa's bestie and the Queen of the Coronas) returned from her two months on a beach in Mexico Monday night. She had her choice of twenty-five voting locations and purposely came all the way over to my site to vote. When I saw her, I may have squealed, ran across the room and hugged her, happy to see her smiling face. She looked tan, relaxed and happy.  

Now then, the rest of my Tuesday: 

So, the voting is over. I have no idea who won, as I haven't been out of my vegetative state long enough to check the score board. Given the number of voters who told me their preferred candidates (I didn't ask), I have a good idea. 

There were many die-hards, lacking the basics in civics, who came in just to vote in the Presidential primary, forgoing their right to cast ballots for Senator, Texas representatives, railroad commissioners, justices of the peace, dog catcher, prom queen and Little Miss Rice Patty. I guess these folks forgot that Little Miss Rice Patty sometimes has higher asperations and wants to eventually go on to bigger and better. 

The line at our location Tuesday was an hour wait. Nobody, I mean NOBODY, came in ugly, complaining or whining about standing in that line. Many times me or my clerks told these voters about other polling places close by where there were no wait times. And yet, nobody left the line either. We closed the polls at 7 p.m. However, anyone standing in line at 7 had a chance to vote. Therefore, our last voter left at 7:30. I should also note, I am absolutely astonished at the number of people who thanked us for doing our job. 

I would also like to point out that nobody, and I mean NOBODY, got the least bit nasty or disrespectful about their neighbor's countering opinion. Everyone seemed to agree we were on Team America. 

There was a faction of folks over a certain age who were beyond cantankerous about the new-fangled technology they were forced to use. "Why can't I just have a pen and paper like the old days?" Because of my Ph.D., in calming down Grumpy Old Men, I jumped from station to station, showing them how to use our voting machines. It is amazing how truthfully saying, "I like you. You remind me of my father. He used to say similar things in this situation," makes a difference and keeps them from rioting.

At the end of the night, I had to drive to the New Boston courthouse with my clerk and turn over my ballots. Every ballot was accounted for (YAY!) and then I drove my clerk to her friend's house in Arkansas--a tid-bit she neglected to mention when I offered to drive her home. 

I made it to bed by 11 p.m. and didn't even notice Luna taking up 3/4 of my side of the bed. 

There are four more elections in Bowie County this year, with the biggie in November. Do I want to be a judge in any or all of them? Not sure at this moment. I'll make that decision later when I am more awake.