It seems just like yesterday when I walked to the road to get the mail, it was chockful of letters and cards just for me.
It seemed everyone wanted to tell me what they would do for my township, my county, my state, my country. I would bring them in and spread them across the dining room table, those bright and colorful promises of people who wanted my vote.
I treasured the happy faces of candidates, technicolor backgrounds of solid houses or sometimes the candidates were shaking hands with someone else. The someone could be the local sheriff or someone else prominent in the public eye. "See, this guy likes me, too!" it hinted.
I liked what everyone running for office was going to do…."take a bite out of crime" "better roads" or "A balanced budget is my priority" or "I'll keep compassion on my agenda."
And even when it was the weekend without mail delivery, I was sure to get a phone call from "unknown caller" who wanted me to know how my vote was important for him or her who was running for this or that.
Sometimes the candidate himself/herself would leave me a personal message about how important I was to him/her for winning this primary. If I wasn't home at the time, my call waiting would be blinking merrily. Everyone wanted me.
And then each evening, just about the time I was ready to have my supper, an urgent message would be there for me, so that I wouldn't forget this important primary day and what did I think about….?
Gee, I really loved to get those "Your Opinion Counts" messages, because then I got the chance to tell someone what I was thinking and worrying about, so that their candidate, if I voted for him/her could do something about it.
What a flurry of cards, calls and letters as March 15 approached! Since it happened to be my birthday, I was very pleased that so many folks out there remembered to call and wish me "many more!"
But it turned out to be only those proddings for last-minute voters who hadn't made up their minds yet. All the same, it was nice to be noticed.
Now I go to the mailbox and it is empty, except for bills. And phone calls have stopped also. Nobody wants to talk to me anymore. I feel a little lonesome, you know, since so many people were asking me, as a concerned citizen, to voice my opinion.
Ah well, November is coming. I am sure they will all remember me again.
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