Canceled

No Jury service. 

Bummer. I wanted to serve. Just not this week. 

Civic Duty

I'm scheduled to report to the court house tomorrow for jury duty.  

Here's what I know: 

I am not being given the option of "call in the night before and we will let you know." Nope, I got a "See you on November 19 and don't be late," letter.

I have not been selected for a jury as of yet--at least to my knowledge. 

I leave for vacation on Friday.  

Observations

I've had a bit of a mental list going in my head. Thought I'd dump it here. 

Where I live: 

• The word "boil" is one syllable. I can't even pronounce it, so please don't ask. 

• The word "ice" is twelve syllables. 

• Personal questions aren't considered personal. For example, I wear a brace on my knee. I've done so for the better part of 20 years. Around here, when I wear shorts or a skirt, perfect strangers will walk up to me and ask, "What's wrong with your knee?" I'm told they are being (ahem) "friendly." 

• Gossip is considered news. Polly has a medical issue. I asked someone I know who is familiar with insurance for some guidance (because our insurance denied the coverage AFTER the tests were run). After giving advice, she said, "I'm heading to Bible class. We'll be praying for Polly today." At one point, I fought this. Now I'm so used to this, I often forget it is NOT normal and a bit creepy.    

• Going to Bible class is considered a social activity. 

• I turn left onto busy streets at five p.m. on Tuesday afternoons without traffic lights and I don't fear for my life. 

• Gasoline is currently $2.36 a gallon and my electric bill last month was $83. 

• It is normal to discuss wildlife as if they are residents of the area and not wild critters. As an example, I just uttered this sentence: "Did you see the dead snake on Brown Drive?" (I checked. It was dead. ) 

• It is normal to "reply all." It is considered rude NOT to "reply all." In this case, I'm okay being rude. 

• If two or more are headed somewhere (like Hobby Lobby, the coffee shop, movies, etc.), it is customary to invite everyone else along in an text thread and then have everyone else "reply all" their status, so that your phone will ding for the next 20 minutes. Additionally, for some maddening reason, it is also customary to "heart" every response in the group text so that your phone will ding for another 20 minutes thereafter. My phone is usually on silent and I miss out on invitations because I don't see them until hours later when I scroll through 300 text messages. 

• Someone who is ill will have 35 meals delivered to their home, whether they want the meals or not. If you are a foodie, it is best not to mention illness is running rampant in the house, lest you want 50 pounds of homemade fried catfish, cornbread and banana pudding on your doorstep. Which brings up this: someone cared enough about you to take the time to make you a meal. Oh, by the way, you probably are also on 5 prayer lists.   

• Speaking of fried catfish, cornbread and banana pudding... the color of food in the South ranges from yellow to tan. Don't believe me? The Pantone color for chicken spaghetti is PMS 7402C. 

• Mayonnaise is a staple in Southern cooking. I don't understand Southern cooking.  

Nope. No. Never. Not Gonna Happen.

That Red Dot

Last year I met Freddy, who runs the Gathering of Authors*. She asked me if I would help her with the 2024 event, which for the past 14 years has been held the first weekend in November. I explained I was working for Bowie County with the elections and the timing didn't work for me. So, I'd be happy to help in other capacities, but not on the day of. Freddy--who really should be a real estate agent, with her inability to hear "no"--decided if I was showing any signs of being willing to help at all, would move the event to the weekend after the election. Problem solved! After all, how tired could I possibly be? 

Throughout the year, while Freddy sat at her day job, I helped gather silent auction donations from generous folks. It took little time to drive up to the local tire shop/restaurant/salon/gift boutique and ask for the gift card/trinket they'd committed to giving. And frankly, I didn't mind.  

As the event day grew nearer, and it appeared I wouldn't be working early voting, I told Freddy I'd be free to help on the actual day of the event. Tears--TEARS--rolled down her eyes as she expressed her gratitude, telling me she had no idea how she was going to handle this event this year. To hear Freddy tell her tale, she was a one-woman wonder who carried the success of event on her shoulders. And to be fair, this has been her baby for the past 15 years. She really is the face behind the Gathering of Authors. 

Freddy even invited me to the dinner the night before where two delightful people were speaking. In all honesty, I didn't want to go. I asked if it would be all right to pass on it, but she insisted. After all, it was the least she could do for all my driving around Texarkana for the past six months. 

Sure. Fine. I came. I ate a pulled pork sandwich and heard an amazing tale from our keynote speakers. 

The next morning, the actual day of the event, I dutifully showed up at 8:30, just as Freddy asked. The poor girl was frazzled. "Here could you handle... no wait! Hey? Where's my phone? Call my phone for me. I lost it." And in her next breath, "I see you called me? What did you want?"  

But what I found out was that I wasn't the only volunteer she'd pulled the "I'm a one woman show and desperately need help!!!!" routine. In fact, there were so many of us, I had nothing to do. 

I'm not going to say I resented the entire experience, after all, I agreed. I'm a grown woman and know how to say "No," which will be the first word that comes out of my mouth next year. I met some amazing local authors. Two of whom are joining the Golden Quills this coming week. I got a free book for my nephew and accidentally sold one of mine just through a little networking.  

I am going to say I was beyond exhausted. I had not caught up on my sleep. I have a garden which needs attention. I have a book to write. I have a few Coronas I wouldn't have minded hanging out with. And, I have a family I love and wanted to spend time with. 

By the way, I announced at 11:30 that morning I was heading home. I'm not sorry. The event was up and running and there were 690 other volunteers helping out. 

Incidentally, I don't hold any ill will against Freddy. Take her out of the confines of this event, and she's pretty cool. I can compartmentalize crazy and am grateful others offer me the same grace. 

A few weeks ago, Freddy asked if I want to have a booth at next year's Gathering of Authors. After watching this year's event, my answer is firm, "No thanks." I don't see the point. It is like a huge book fair in the middle of nowhere. The price for the booth is nuts and I didn't see enough book buyers driving to the middle of the forest from Texarkana to make the entire experience profitable for the authors. 

After I passed on a booth, she instantly pivoted and wanted to get my commitment in helping out next year. 

That's a Hard Ho. Nope. No Way. Bless your heart, that's not happening.  

*Money raised goes to the Greater Texarkana Autism Awareness

Election Day part 2

We had a line of enthusiastic voters starting around 6:15 Tuesday morning. People braved the thunder and lightening, ready to do their civic duty, all in the name of Team America. 

One of the best parts of election day was the sheer volume of first time voters who came in. We celebrated as many as we could. First time voters are such a treat! We high-fived them, clapped and cheered them along. Other voters stepped up, congratulating the new voters. Our new voters weren't just young adults, we had folks as old as 78 coming in for the first time to vote. 

Sadly, we also had several who tried to game the system, giving us the same talking points of how it was legal to register and vote on the same day. Or better yet, how they knew they were registered, even though their name wasn't showing up in the system. Those folks couldn't tell us when they registered or if they'd voted in other elections. And--every single time--when we offered to call the courthouse to find out why they weren't in the system (it does happen) they all bolted. And my favorite: we had the ones who lived in Arkansans, were registered to vote in Arkansas (so they said) but insisted they always voted in Texas.

For the most part, everyone was friendly and kind. Someone even brought us bottles of water! Nobody wore candidate merch Tuesday. However, there was a larger than necessary faction of voters who wanted to take selfies, or pictures of their ballots, or talk on the phone and process the entire voting experience with their best friend. 

At the end of the day, we had 750 voters. To put that in perspective, during the primary we had about 500. I got home at 8:30 and managed to arrive before Buckaroo, whose site had significantly less voters. I went to bed, not having the least bit curiosity about what was going on with the the outcome of the election. In the morning, I found a plethora of play-by-play text messages from Polly, who stayed up watching the results. 

 

Election Day

Today is Election Day. I'm sure you knew that before you read that previous sentence. Unfortunately, given the number of people who showed up at my voting site yesterday wanting to vote, I'm guessing the word hadn't gotten out. 

Yesterday, Miss Hattie (my presiding judge--Yay!) and I set up the voting machines. It took us three hours of setting up machines, unwinding electrical cords, and testing and verifying the machines. Buckaroo came by after he set up his own voting precinct (yep, he's doing this too) and helped us. 

A word about Miss Hattie. She's a Southern woman of indiscernible age. Buck met her yesterday, later telling me her first name is obviously "Miss." No matter what she asks, every answer automatically begins with, "yes, ma'am."

When I talked to Miss Hattie yesterday, she wanted to make sure we were on the same page about what to do if we had "aggressive" voters. I'd heard about the ugly voter last week who didn't want to remove his red hat. I had no idea Miss Hattie had been the one threatened. She isn't having any of it today. 

By the way, she has me working the line/floor/door instead of checking in voters because (according to Miss Hattie) I have "no-nonsense facial expressions." I'll have my 10,000 steps by 9 a.m. However, I get to be the ones to remind folks to leave their handguns and election merch in the car.  

I've packed a second set of clothing. Incidentally, I noticed Buck has as well. It is pouring rain right now--which seems to be a requirement around here for election days. Because there are voters who need to who utilize curbside voting, if it's raining, the voting machine and the voter get the umbrella and I get soaked. Every time I've done this, I've changed clothes. 

Polly and Marty Sunshine have been given marching orders of what to bring us for lunch. Polly is bringing food to me, Marty is bringing food for Buck. Last time, our team had a potluck. However, I was the only one who brought anything tasty and it was pretty much gone before I got my lunch at 4 p.m.

One last reminder, be kind to your election workers. Even if you've already voted, if you are in the neighborhood, they wouldn't mind a bottle of water and and good vibes.  

Oh, and keep your political merch at home. Miss Hattie isn't having any of it. 

The Rules of Engagement

In case you haven't heard, tomorrow is Election Day here in the US. Though there are now several ways to handle one's ballot, many traditional folks wait until the actual first Tuesday of November to cast their vote. This year, I'm being told it will be a busy one. So, to make mine and other election workers' jobs a tad easier, I thought I give y'all marching orders. 

1. Election workers are paid pittance. We aren't doing this for the money, fame or glory. In fact, by the time 5 a.m. Tuesday morning rolls around, there are several of us wondering if we might have the teensiest tickle in our throat so we can call in sick. That said, be kind to those serving. And--this is a personal favor--remind others to do the same. 

2. You might have to wait in line. Yep. That happens. Yelling at us how you "have been here 45 minutes" doesn't change the fact you've been here 45 minutes. We are working a 16+ hour day and don't care. Also, if you you are waiting in line when the polls close, you will still get to vote. That is Federal Law. So, stay in line. But please don't take it out on us that you waited until the end of the day to vote. 

3. Unless you are active law enforcement, your firearm does not come in the voting room. Don't argue with me. Don't "what if..." me. If you have a problem, take it up with the Secretary of State. Thank you.

3a. "Active Law Enforcement" means someone with a badge. We aren't talking about a a mall cop. 

3b. One last thing about firearms. We both know what "Active Law Enforcement" means. Give us a break. There's a line 100 people deep outside and now you are holding it up fighting me about open carry/NRA/the Second Amendment. Put your gun in your car. We are too busy to deal with you.  

4. We ask Federal Law demands that your phone is off. And more importantly, all recording devices (such as your phone) are off while you are in the voting room. Surly you saw the 15 signs posted all over the place mentioning this! You cannot take a selfie of you, holding your ballot. You cannot take a picture of your ballot as "proof" you voted. You cannot take a video and put it on TickTack/Instagum/Faceplant/XYZ or any other social media site. 

4a. Don't be difficult about the phone/cameral rule. It's posted everywhere. I have no desire to talk to a judge at 11 p.m. Tuesday night, explaining why I "allowed" you to film Karen over there casting her ballot. Please! Just help a girl out.   

5. We celebrate first time voters. Join us. We love seeing newly Naturalized Citizens and/or 18 year olds vote. 

6. A word about the "I voted stickers." You will notice a few extraordinary things in that tiny, yet sticky, piece of paper. a) The pronoun is I. Singular. You need ONE sticker. b) The verb is past tense. It already happened. You may not walk into the voting room and take your sticker before you voted. It's like demanding the receipt from Walmart before paying for the groceries. 

6a. If you need "proof" your ballot was cast, that's what the sticker is for--not your camera.

7. Please (PLEASE!!) keep all your election merch at home when you go vote. Though Connie may be your desired candidate for Little Miss Rice Patch, if you wear her button into the voting room, I will have to ask you to remove it because that's called "Electioneering" and it is illegal. Karen over there can call the Secretary of State's office and I will be seeing a judge at 11 p.m. Tuesday night and explaining how I "allowed" you to influence Karen's Little Miss Rice Patch vote. This goes for candidate T-shirts, hats, and other SWAG too. 

7a. If you have a T-shirt which might say something derogatory about the other candidate, such as "Mary is the worst Little Miss Rice Patch Candidate EVAH" it still counts as Electioneering.

7b. If you are sporting any slogan from a political campaign, I'm told that is considered the same as sporting the candidate's name. I heard a story from early voting last week of a voter who threatened one of the election officials because the election official (doing his job) wouldn't give him his ballot until the the guy removed his red hat with a particular slogan. Don't be that guy. And if you feel you should be entitled to display a potential slogan without a candidate's name, that's awesome. Feel any way you want as long as you take off the hat for the ten minutes you are in the voting room. 

8. If you participated in early voting or mailed your ballot in, don't stand in line for an hour and then feign outrage about how you haven't voted and the system is rigged. We have your signature on file and can tell you what day and what location you voted at. 

9. There are no paper ballots to punch or ways take a marker and color in the line. Everything is done on the computer now. If that isn't your thing, sorry. That's how it is done in my county. If you need assistance, I'm happy to help. However, I will not give you a paper ballot because there are NO PAPER BALLOTS and this is 2024--even in Bowie County, Texas. Don't take out your luddite frustrations on my clerks.

10. When you come in to vote, we will not be discussing political opinions. You cannot goad me, shame me or trick me into discussing anything on the ballot. As an election official, it isn't my job to tell you who to vote for. Besides, I'm sure you already have an opinion or two. 

And finally this word. I honestly don't care who you vote for. I never will. If one party or the other doesn't win, the world will still revolve on Wednesday and I expect to continue breathing. Though the playbook looks different to some, we are all on Team America. You do you.