Early voted

It seems as though Kim and I had been waiting impatiently for the opportunity to vote early in this year's midterm elections.

More precisely, waiting forever. The waiting felt interminable, in the same way living in the current Trump administration feels interminable.

So Friday, after Kim got off from work, we made a beeline to the Davidson County Board of Elections to exercise our constitutionally guaranteed right to vote. Somewhat surprisingly, there was not the usual crowd of poll watchers, down-ballot candidates or party partisans in the parking lot to wade through.

But there was at least one. "Would you like a brochure to review the Republican candidates?" she asked. "No!" exclaimed the usually soft-spoken Kim in her loud, stop-annoying-me voice as we quick-stepped our way to the polls. After a moment or two passed, Kim turned to me. "You know what I should have said? I should have told her 'Hell, no!'" She snickered.

Kim's gentle Southern accent, which has captivated me for decades, made it sound more like "Hail, no!" I snickered, too.

When we got inside the door we were greeted by poll workers who reminded us that we needed to have our photo ID available. Kim already had her driver's license in hand. I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, flipped the flap that covers the license window in my wallet and ... my license wasn't there.

Wha...??? Where's my license? It's always there. What happened to it?

Panic set in. How can I vote? I was more concerned about not being able to vote than I was about going through the potential bureaucracy of replacing my license.

Kim was already in line. I sat off to the side, pulling every card out from every conceivable pocket in my wallet. Sweat was forming. My fingers were shaking. Where the hail is my license? It's got my Real ID on it. Without Real ID, I'm nobody. Apparently.

Kim was now checking in to vote. I gave my wallet one last search. And behold. There, behind the plastic window that's usually reserved for my license, there is another slip-in pocket that serves as a card holder, but not for display. Somehow, that's where my license was. I got in line.

And I voted. I voted against illegal wars. I voted against unilaterally raising tariffs. I voted against rogue law enforcement roaming our streets and murdering our citizens. I voted against rising inflation. I voted against rising prices. I voted against the chaos that has swallowed this nation. I voted against a convicted felon president having free reign to employ his twisted vision of American government with the support of a Republican controlled Congress. I voted against presidential corruption. I voted against tax breaks for the very rich.

I don't know how loud my voice is, but I felt good about voting. I always do. I never feel more American than at this moment.

On the way home, we tried to figure out how my driver's license got to where it ended up. Kim remembered that there was a routine license check on a side road in town about a month ago. I had to take my license out of my wallet, and when I put it back, I unknowingly slipped it back in the pocket behind the display window. Nobody could see it.

Oh, well. It was worth the panic. It all worked out.

I voted. Now it's your turn.