This morning, like a good citizen, I voted. I was in the Richardson city hall on business and saw the early voting booth there. It was one of those newfangled electronic ballots, and I got through most of the 16 screens of candidates before coming to our local congressional race.

Context: A year ago, my boss was off on a rant about how young reporters aren’t as invested in their communities as old-timers are. As proof, he asked me who my congressional representative was. I didn’t know. And I felt like an ass. So I quickly went to find out: it’s District 30’s Eddie Bernice Johnson, chair of the Congressional Black Caucus. I made sure to remember her, if only because of the shame brought by my boss’ comments.

Anyway, so this morning I’m voting and get to where I should be voting for Eddie or her opponent Ron Bush. But instead I see incumbent Sam Johnson and challenger Manny Molera.

Who are these people? Having heard of neither, I think: Are you sure you live in Eddie Bernice Johnson’s district? Eddie Johnson, Sam Johnson — you cracking up, JB?

I voted anyway and left the polling place. Got back to the office and checked: I am indeed in Eddie Johnson’s district, not Sam Johnson’s. The Richardson voting booth I was at, however, is in Sam Johnson’s. So I voted illegally in an election after being given a faulty ballot.

I called the county elections office, and their response was, roughly: tough noogies.

Maybe I should move to Florida.

23 October 2002

Comments

Post a comment

Name (required):

Email (required, not shown):

URL:
    Remember Me? Yes No

Comments: