...


THE ALARM SQUAWKED AT 7:00 this morning and I groaned. I knew at that very moment--that very cold and barely daylight moment--there were already people walking into polling places and dutifully casting ballets; and yet I, with the responsibilities of my political office calling, wished to do nothing more than shirk my duty, bury my head under the pillow and go back to slumbering.




I re-set the alarm for another ten minutes and spent the time contemplating an announcement to my constituents: "To leave office before my term is completed is what every instinct in my body wishes to do at this moment. Therefore, I shall resign the office of committee-person, effective at 7:15 a.m. today." It seemed just a bit dramatic, however. And, honestly, the logistics of making this announcement in some official way and in a timely manner seemed daunting. Besides, I had already loaded the trunk of the car with a folding table and a chair the night before. And my yard man, before leaving on his five-day trek, had hoisted into the car the beach-umbrella-holding contraption he'd contrived for my use at the flea market a while back. (Of course, I had stashed the beach umbrella, too, pleased that it was so suitably blue.)


Furthermore, I'd made arrangements with the committee chairperson to pick up signs and watch her in action for a while, to get a feel for the job I was expected to do.

So I got myself up and I got myself dressed. The plan was for me to sit outside amid a cluster of political signs and answer any questions that voters might have pertaining to voting or pertaining to the candidates running for office on my party's ticket. Naturally, a critical aspect of the plan was the "sitting outside" part--and I knew it was cold. So I donned a pair of corduroy pants; a heavy cotton sweater; an insulated vest; a wool sweater. Then I looked at the thermometer and it read 37degrees. I added a quilted jacket.




I'll add something more tomorrow.


...