Democracy in America

One of my favorite episodes of the television show "Northern Exposure" was an episode called "Democracy in America." The local, long-serving mayor, Holling Vincouer is challenged by once of his neighbors who is irritated about Holling's refusal to follow-up on one of her complaints. The townspeople take sides. The actual vote takes place in a lovely montage set to the "Simple Gifts" movement of Copland's "Appalachian Spring." Holling loses. End of story. I voted this year. You may laugh and say, "Yeah, so did 110,000,000+ people, illegal immigrants, dead people and felons," but really, voting took actual effort. In some respects, I think having to work to make your vote count is better for the republic than sitting around your kitchen table with a black ink pen, filling in the bubbles while asking your spouse, "Hey did you vote for Judge Higgins or Judge Lewis?" "I voted for Lewis. Higgins is a silly name." Once the ritual is over and you've dutifully voted for the measures that don't increase your taxes, you march to the mailbox, drop in the envelope and bingo--you've voted. Unless you live in Moscow, Russia. This year we applied for absentee ballots not really believing we would get them. They showed up 48 hours before we were set to leave for Greece on a 10 day vacation. The only option we had was to trot down to the US Embassy to send them in the pouch back to the US. So after several long days trekking into the center from our home in rural Rosinka, I trekked in, yet another brisk autumn day, the leaves were just turning. My usual routine is to take the metro from Parry's work--Krylatskaya--to Smolenskaya where there is a nice, two-story McDonald's. I'm a frequent visitor there on Friday mornings on my way to other meetings or appointments. It's warm and clean, and the cashiers don't cringe at my horrible Russian ordering hashbrowns, diet coke, orange juice or raspberry fruit pies. I decided I would reward myself AFTER I had voted. I took my first metro trip of the day (only one transfer) to Barrikadnaya, the closest stop to the embassy. After at least one directionally challenged moment and few tense minutes trying to figure out where I could cross the massive Garden Ring road without being mowed down by a hundred cars simultaneously, ended up finding my way. I passed the long lines of Russians queued outside the consular office, hoping for visas and went straight for the well-hidden citizen's service office deep in the bowels of the embassy. A few doors, a checkpoint and an uncooperative door later, I found myself in a waiting room that could be a generic, bureaucratic DMV like place anywhere in the world. In an odd sort of way, it was comforting. I waited for my turn, proudly presented my ballots to the clerk...only to be told that they wouldn't be postmarked in Virginia until November 5--too late to count in Utah. The alternative: Fedex was offering a flat-fee, express mail package to expats that would guarantee arrival before the deadline. I left the embassy, discouraged. I had gone from being grateful I couldn't vote (not terribly happy with either choice) so I didn't have to get into arguments with friends and neighbors over the issues, to feeling strongly that I NEEDED to vote and WANTED to vote. The outcome for Federal offices in my area was not in question, but there were a few votes a wanted to cast--like one for my sister-in-law's brother, a young businessman who recently had miraculously survived a plane crash in rural Guatemala while on a humanitarian trip. I called my dear friend Lindsey. She came to the rescue with an offer of her printer and instructions on which trolley bus to take to her apartment. No McDonald's yet. Two hours later (and good chatting later), I, in possession of a FEDEX airbill and my ballots, trekked off in search of the FEDEX office. After 45 minutes and two transfers on the metro, I arrived, passed in my ballots and joined the ranks of Americans voting in the election. I skipped McDonald's (after considering dropping by the mall location at Stchukinskaya) and went straight home to Rosinka to pack for our vacation. The whole process, from the moment I left my house to the moment I arrived back at my house, took six hours. I realize that making the vote accessible to everyone and making it "easy" is important so that everyone has the opportunity to vote. But what I learned is that having to work for something, having to exert the effort and go out of your way to make it happen, makes the experience that much more sweet. When it costs you something--even if it is only time, walking a lot of city blocks and freezing your fingers off--the process requires you to think about what you're doing and why. I suppose that has been among my biggest concerns about the US Election this year: it felt more like the public was caught up in the candidate's celebrity (or lack of) without demanding, especially from the media, a solid, in-depth discussion of the issues, policies and future plans. Not just "Change!" If I hear that slogan one more time, I may stuff a sock in the uttering mouth. I'm not talking about the chattering classes in the blogosphere and talk radio--I'm taking about substance from the candidates. This has been like a student body election, on a grand scale. Maybe if every voter had to spend as much time as I did--at least once in their lives--figuring out how to make sure their ballot counted--they might give it more thought to their choices than how the candidate performed on SNL. In the meantime, "'tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free..." Next time: Greece.