Tough transition day yesterday and I missed the production schedule completely.

It is hard to veer between the Country Mouse stuff- bees, country culture, heritage tomatoes, good neighbor stuff- and city mouse madness of legal nonsense and urban chaos.

I had to do some city things yesterday- I had not glanced at the city “to do” list and was startled at what had piled up while I was thinking of other things- like the alert pal in the Shenandoah who had a remarkable suggestion for the tomato beds, and natural marigold defenses against the inquisitive (and hungry) deer population.

The “to does” started with the special election to fill the County Board position. I like to be the first in line when the polls open at 0600, but this not being one of those general elections, I sort of spaced it out. I was between dry-cleaners, haircut and Commissary, one of them having a time of arrival specified, and decided to duck in and perform my civic duty.

Voting is the best revenge, right? Keep ‘em honest, anyway. The issues here in Blue Arlington include million-dollar bus shelters, an expensive trolley system to accommodate the diverse Columbia Pike corridor that those of us north of Route 50 will never use, and tons more money for the schools. And the brand new aquatic center, almost forgot. Not that any of those were actually on the ballot; the election was caused because one of the sitting Board members decided to leave his office early and join an advocacy group. In my experience that normally happens one step ahead of some official inquiry, but I didn’t ask and the departing member didn’t tell.

We denizens of Big Pink vote in the recreation room of the Culpeper Gardens Assisted Living Facility- the other moderate high-rise building in the mostly single family end of the Buckingham neighborhood. The County would never permit either of the buildings to be constructed now- we are not in the Master Plan.

I snuck around the back way and through the decorative gardens that are just starting to product bright yellow flowers. And mud. I stopped to wipe off the

I held the door for a professionally dressed young woman, and walked into the rec room with the shuffle-board patterns on the floor. I was pleased that I was asked to provide valid government-issued photo ID. I have to provide the same thing to buy alcohol, guns and tobacco, so why not here?

After reviewing my bona fides, the volunteer registrar handed me a card entitling to stand at the electronic voting machine, though a sudden spate of elderly voters had appeared from the tower above, and things were briefly hectic. It was not at all the formidable organization that greets the Generals. Two registrars at a card table, one voting assistance officer, and two electronic machines completed the lay-out, which was about a quarter the size of the staff and equipment for the General.

The assistance officer was an earnest but friendly woman in a cardigan sweater and jeans about my age, hair gathered back in a pony-tail. She had a courteous manner, and clearly cared about the ritual in which we were both participating. I had been here during one of the general elections, working, and it is a long and pretty thankless day. I thanked her for her service and she smiled.

A man in baggy jeans completed his duty, and shuffled off. I was permitted to cross the green line and I handed the woman the card signifying that there was only one of me, and she showed me to the machine, inserted her magnetic card to activate the ballot and wished me well.

This being a special election, there was only one question on the ballot: which of the four candidates to fill the vacancy for which to vote.

I pride myself on being a pretty organized guy, and do my homework before voting. I normally know which tax and millage increases I am going to vote “no” on, and which candidates I find the most appalling in their hubris to vote against.

I stood looking at the four names like a stunned mullet. Three guys, one lady. No party affiliation to identify them. Crap!

I wanted to back up and go ask the question, but it was too late. No do-overs, and I had no idea who to vote against. No GOP candidate had been elected to the Council since 1999, another special election in which people were angry about something or other, I forget what. The Greenies run someone regularly, a sort of Progressive answer to the mainstream Democrats who have run Arlington for a half-century.

There were two independents, which is what I style myself these days, but they were really Republicans in disguise. I looked down the list and tried to remember the name of the guy- I think it was a guy- who reminded me to vote in the election.

The Lady was either a Wiccan or a Greenie. There was one mainstream Democrat, though the ballot didn’t say which. Damn. The line was forming, some leaning heavily on their canes. I could have gone with the Wiccan, that would have been a certain thing, since there was only a one-in-three chance of voting against the person I wanted to.

I did a mathematical analysis, eenie minie moe, and made my pick. I made a resolution to check on the Internet when I got home and see who random choice had made me a supporter. I mashed the box on the touch screen and fulfilled my duty. The nice lady gave me a little sticker that could be peeled off and placed on the forehead to shame other citizens in the course of the rest of my day.

It was a busy day, and Willow had booked the Fish and Wildlife cocktail nook and the Amen Corner for a private event, and I did not have a chance to compare notes with other prospective voters. I sat out on the patio for the first out-of-doors cocktail hour of the year, looking at the green tarp that covers the old-school pool. Forty-something days to go before the swimming season begins.

I did check this morning to see what happened in the election. It was not at all what I expected, though it was only a 20% turn-out. Honestly, these city mice can really surprise you sometimes.

Copyright 2014 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303