Election RejectionA Story by T. L. O'NealIt never pays to get into politics or religion with family. Election Rejection Written by: T. L. O’Neal You know the old saying; “Never discuss politics or religion with family or friends.” Well I’m here to tell you that there’s something to it too. I’m not into either one that much, but there are those that are hardcore when it comes to such matters as these. If you don’t see eye to eye with them on such subjects, you’re just dead wrong and a heathen to boot. Well back in the 2004 election, I had a few run-ins with some relatives on some of these issues and it wasn’t that pretty either. Not that I’m wrong or a heathen mind you, but just like everyone else I do have an opinion. I wasn’t out to look for or to pick a fight in this, I was just doing what I thought was right. If there is anything wrong with that, then so be it. Mama passed away in January of 2004 and my family and I moved into her house in April, it was the first time we ever had a house of our very own. With the general election coming up soon, I decided to put some of those political signs up that you see everywhere in my front yard. With me never owning a house or a yard for that matter before, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to do my part for the political process for the first time. I had always voted regularly like a good American should, but this was something new and different for me. So my wife and I and the little one in tow too went to the county’s democratic headquarters to see about getting some signs. The building was this old abandoned storefront in the county seat in the old downtown section. It didn’t look like much but it made me wonder what the republican one probably looked like. I bet it was covered in gold and had marble floors and fresh cut flowers all around, and maybe even an Al Qaeda or two hung up by their toes. Anyway, I told them to give me one of everything that they had because I was going to put them in the front yard for everyone to see. They sure were tickled over this and were more than happy to give them to us. They gave us a bunch of them too, most of them of people that I never even heard of before either, I bet we even got one for the county dogcatcher. Plus they gave us five tickets to go see the John Edwards rally with Bon Jovi to boot. Everyone in the family was raring to go see Bon Jovi, so we took the tickets and thanked everyone all around. It was nice to see those people so happy for us to take those signs; I’m glad that we went there. When we got home we put those signs up all in the front yard beside the road, it was a shining moment to see all those signs there too. Not for who they stood for so much but because we were just doing something for the election. As I did it I thought of the repercussions that might befall me, but then I thought to hell with the consequences. I really didn’t care even though I lived smack dab in the middle of republican country; I was an island in the sea of conservatives you might say. I’m a registered republican myself by the way, but sometimes your ways of thinking does change when you get older. I always was a liberal one I guess, if there is such a thing? A liberal republican or a conservative democrat, I never was really sure, all I knew was that I never fit in anywhere my whole damn life anyways. My whole family is republican I do believe and even my uncle came to the house when I was 18 to sign me up. I seriously doubt he would have if I were registering as a democrat because he’s a hardcore republican and on the election board too. There were a few “hot democrats” around, as Mama would call them, but I was a lukewarm one at best but I did try to do my bit. Well, all these signs didn’t particularly sit very well with my uncle who lived right up the road from me. He was and still is a hardcore republican and on the election board too as I said earlier. It must have seemed to him that the invading army had just put up camp across the road from his house. I didn’t do this to piss him off or anyone else for that matter, I just wanted to do my part for the election process. I feel if you don’t vote or do anything else for that matter, you have no reason to b***h about it because you didn’t help with it. It seems that so many do b***h about it, and of course it is the American way and that’s what makes this a great country. Having the right to do that and all you know. But I always ask them when someone starts it up, “ Did you vote?” I would ask. But of course ninety percent of them never did. Anyway, I do believe I’m the only hippie republican in these parts, hell maybe the whole damn country for that matter. I should be a delegate or something at their convention I think, but I’d sure feel out of place I’m sure and about as out of place as a w***e in church. It would be kind of cool though; I would wear a tied-dyed t-shirt, bell-bottom pants and some sandals too. Maybe even hold up a sign that says, “Make love not war.” I’m pretty sure at that point they would bring stoning back into popularity again. Anyhow, later when I took my daughter to her therapist, he was mine too by the way, I asked if I could cancel my appointment for later that evening. He asked me why and I told him that we had tickets to the political rally that Bon Jovi was going to be at. Since my wife couldn’t go because my oldest daughter wanted to go to the school dance that night instead of going to the rally and she had to pick her up, we had some extras. He was ecstatic over this and said he had his secretary looking all day for some, and wanted to know if he could have a few of them. Turns out he was a big Bon Jovi fan, and he had every CD that the man ever put out too I do believe. So I said sure he could if he went with us as our therapist since my daughter and I both had problems being around a lot of people and large open buildings. He was more than happy to and had his secretary cancel all of the rest of his appointments for that evening too. I hope his later appointments weren’t in a crisis or suicidal or something like that, I sure would of hated it if something would of happened to them because he wanted to see Bon Jovi so bad. I sure would of felt guilty being that I gave him the tickets and all. Well we made it there with the therapist and his friend in tow; my daughter and me drove separately from him in case we had to make a fast exit. Lord, there were a lot of people there but we were going to try and make the best of it. The therapist was a hell of a lot more excited than we were about being there I tell you. Of course he was there to see Bon Jovi and didn’t have a lot of phobias either, but I was there to see Edwards and my daughter was there to see both I guess. After we got in and seated, we waited for the ball to get rolling. My daughter and me were already on our last nerve already, when some older women came and sat down behind us with a bunch of balloons. Lucky me I thought, I hate balloons with a passion, and I especially hate old ladies with balloons that sit down behind my a*s in an already stressful situation. It wasn’t long before those damn balloons started to pop, one by one in our ears. They said they were sorry and giggled, but about the third time I cut them a look that my wife used to call, “The eyes.” She said I looked like the devil himself when I did that. They must of thought the same thing because they got the message pretty quick and took their remaining balloons and moved to another seat. Boy was I ever glad they left; I think my daughter and me had one nerve left between us by then. We were starting to fall apart at the seams. The therapist wasn’t much help though; he stayed way down front taking pictures like he was a damn paparazzo. Every now and then he would run up to us and ask if we were all right. I told him no we weren’t, so he just told us to breathe slow or something or other and ran back down front to take some more pictures. I hope he got some good ones, pictures that is. He just wasn’t much help so I just handled it in my own way as usual. That was to get the hell out of the building to some fresh air, and we did this about four times I guess. We’d go out and she would breath in and I would chain smoke three or four cigarettes, we were just glad to get away from all those people for a little bit. We had enough of all this after a while and decided to leave early and beat the traffic coming out of there too. We said our goodbyes to him and his camera and made a beeline back home. On the second of November, which happens to be my Dad’s birthday, I made the mistake of calling him to wish him a happy birthday. He never was very politically minded but always voted, but for some reason now he was all religious and self-righteous too. Seems he became that way recently with his age advancing and the fires of hell licking at his heels. He started bringing up all that mess that everyone was talking about; the abortion rights, gay marriage thing and a few others. I told him I didn’t care either way but I felt the government didn’t have a right to tell people how to live their personal lives. He got all huffy and told me I was going to hell for thinking like that. “So if I don’t think like him then I’m going to hell?” I thought. What’s wrong with this picture? Why is it that the first thing people do when they find religion is to start judging people? Best that I recall the Bible did say something about not judging others or something like that, and about throwing stones too. I never could understand why people would do that. This is the same guy that got off beating us till we were bloody, screwed around on my mother, stayed drunk a lot of the time and too many other things to mention at the moment. How soon some of us forget I guess, he has a convenient lack of memory I’m thinking. He didn’t sound very convincing to me either; I think he was trying to convince himself of his own self-righteousness more than trying to convince me. So I told him were he could go and with what and where to put it when he got there too, and I guarantee you that SOB will make it to hell before I ever will. I haven’t talked to him since and because of this he stopped talking to my two brothers too, but they didn’t seem to be too bothered by this turn of events though. What in the hell did they have to do with this anyways is beyond me, you’d have to ask him about that I guess because I sure won’t. He’s never been a father to us anyhow, so it was no skin of our noses. When Election Day finally arrived, my youngest daughter wanted to go with me to vote and to see how it all worked. She’s the same one that went to the rally with me by the way. I was more than happy to take her along and let her see how the process all worked. Of course she wanted to wear that big campaign button that she got from the rally or the headquarters, where it was I’m not sure. It was fine with me for her to wear it if she wanted to. When we got there the morning of the election, everyone and their brother was there. I never seen so many people heated up about something in my whole life, they were all whining or bitching about this and that. They were as worked up as those people who went on the crusades a thousand years ago, without all the horses and armor of course. My daughter and I just stood in line real quiet like, her all excited to see how to vote and proud of her button. Me, I just wanted to do my part and then get the hell out of hat hornet’s nest of a polling place. When we finally got to the desk to sign in, you had to go to a certain one depending on the first letter of your last name. It was just my luck that I had to go to the one that my uncle was running. My daughter said to him to look at her button that she wore so proudly; he wasn’t amused at all over it and I could feel his disgust over it and me. Of course she was proud and tickled over it, and I wasn’t going to teach her about this part of politics now. Let her enjoy it while she could, I didn’t want to turn her off to the whole election process. She would find out about it soon enough when she gets older. So we voted and I let her put the paper in the machine so she would feel that she had voted too, after that we left and my uncle never spoke to me again. Even after my wife and kids left in 2006, he never came down to check on me. He did call my brother and asked him what was going on but he never bothered to call me to this day about it. Just goes to show you that party affiliation is thicker than blood. I seriously doubt that I’ll put up signs in the next election or even vote for that matter, because after all of this, there’s one thing for certain. It doesn’t really matter who wins or loses, whoever it is they’re going to make a mess of the country anyways. Secondly, you can pick your friends but not your family, and thirdly, it doesn’t pay to discuss politics or religion with ANYONE… especially family!
© 2010 T. L. O'NealFeatured Review
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41 Reviews Added on February 17, 2008 Last Updated on October 24, 2010 AuthorT. L. O'NealIn the sticks, NCAboutI started writing as a way to work out my feelings and found that I enjoyed it very much. I enjoy humor and feel that you can find it in most things, even though it may be hard to find at the moment. .. more..Writing
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