Elections are decided by the people who actually vote.
Even in places where every effort had been made to make that harder than it should be.
Even in places where people in red hats huff and puff and threaten to blow democracy down. Even in places where it takes a few days to actually count the votes once they are cast.
Despite our venomous public mud-wrestle, to a remarkable degree there is every evidence that when a vote is cast in the United States of America, it is counted accurately.
TC and I were in a normal country for three months, Scotland. Like most of the places that have clawed its way to a modern democracy after centuries of craven royal idiots, the Scots are shocked at how casual we Americans are about letting ours circle the toilet. Their national animal is the unicorn and one of their modern national heroes is the old man who won’t sell his tiny plot of land which is encircled by the golf course owned by a certain American gold-course fraud threats. He won’t even let him on his doorstep. So the Scotts are confused about how we might allow him into office….again.
I grew up a Dick Cheney republican. My dad was friends with Ted Agnew. I licked stamps for republican candidates for this or that after school. I even have a card I carry in my wallet that I was among the first to support Richard Nixon for President. Once I got old enough, I even voted for a republican once on a whim (a friend running for clerk of court who did get elected and then screwed it up). I’ll leave the name of their party uncapitalized because I don’t think any of these actual Republicans think it is the same one. It’s not.
I don’t have a plan for what to do if JD Vance is sworn in as Vice President of these United States. It makes my stomach grind to even type the sentence. My counsel to myself and you is to put down your clicker, walk away from the internet and spend the next 28 days making sure that everyone inclined to vote for Kamala Harris, Tim Walz and a remarkable array of decent people wishing to serve their country as Democrats—actually votes.
Don’t spend 5 minutes trying to convince anyone undecided or, God save them, committed to the lunacy. Leave them alone. I suppose there are some worth a conversation, but you’re your expectations low. Don’t stir them up.
Instead, find your local Democrat precinct chair (google it…) and ask to help with your body, time and probably some cash. I served in that role, replaced by the giant upgrade named Kevin. Old school: post cards, poll-greeters, organizing rides to the polls. (Because elections are decided by the people who actually vote.)
If your precinct is not organized, find your county level Democratic party. They’ll have a good website with plenty of opportunities to do real things that take time (postcards, phoning, more phoning, and then some more). You’ll feel like you are in the bar scene from Star Wars with all the odd and wonderful characters. You won’t feel your stomach grind because elections are decided by the people who actually vote.
Plan to take a week or even a few days off before the election and do whatever the local party says do. You really don’t have anything more important going on that can’t be scheduled for November 6th. Because elections are decided by the people who actually vote.
Maybe you’re a writer like me. Even writers can be useful for the survival of the planet, depending on what and when they write. This is the time for you to write personalized emails and hand-addressed notes. Make a list of the 10-20 friends most likely to vote Blue and make sure they do so. Email them (not a group mail). Make sure they are registered. Ask if they are voting early. Ask them where. Offer to go with them. If they are waiting for election day, ask to reschedule conflicting appointments on the day. Make them know you care.
Don’t forget your own family (you’ll know which). We had a daughter who would probably move to Canada if Project 2025 was realized. She got busy and didn’t quite vote for Hillary.
In some odd parts of our fragmented states there will be huffing and puffing intended to make people nervous about voting. The bullies almost always evaporate when a grown-up appears. But offer to take anyone you hear is wobbling. And make sure your precinct and county Democrats know you’re willing to do that as they’ll have a list of folks who need rides.
It’s a human process, not at all what it sounds like on Fox or MNBC. Last election cycle I was the poll greeter at our precinct and a man who was big in his imagination showed up loudly. He ran a training center for 70-pound girl gymnasts but talked all about his exotic military service. And we ended up talking to each other, sort of. We handed out each others’ literature when one of us needed to go to pee.
Now. A month from now is too late.
