I’m one of many Americans for whom yesterday was called “Super Tuesday,” because so many of us had our chance to vote in a primary that would help to elect our next president.
Our small votes. Cast without drama.
I never miss an election. My husband and I make a sweet ritual of it, going together to a nearby elementary school, casting our votes. Well, I can’t remember ever seeing the polling place so empty.
For a change, no activists were outside, trying to persuade us to change our votes at the very last minute. (As if we ever need that!) We sure weren’t voting for Donald Drumpf.
Very few people were voting, according to the volunteer worker I spoke to.
And yet my Mitch and I quietly voted just as we would have if the place had been mobbed and it had all the vibes of a huge and joyful event.