Ellen (ennienyc) wrote,
Ellen
ennienyc

Civic duty

In the previous entry, my story of 9/11 is really a nonstory. I cannot imagine the horror of the people in the planes or the towers. That day, I was acutely aware that Manhattan is just an island.

I've been on a sleeping-all-day schedule which needs to change tomorrow. I finished grading at-homes and mailed them out early Monday morning. Today I went to the mailbox and found 10 new sets, so no break on that. I have 2 other jobs to finish this week as well as the usual NYT, so no break there either. As much as I want to read or web surf all day, work gets in the way.

As in the original 9/11, today was primary day. The main contested race is for Attorney General, between Andrew Cuomo and Mark Green. Some superficial points:

1) I've seen both men in person, Cuomo over the weekend and Mark Green during another campaign years ago.

2) Both have a Great Neck connection. Mark Green is Great Neck South '63, and Cuomo's sister Maria is married to Kenneth Cole, Great Neck North '72 (his sister Abbie was in my class).

None of those things have anything to do with their qualifications to be Attorney General. I did some research and made my choice.

Before voting, I had to get to the bank to deposit checks. The bank recently changed all the account numbers and gave us new cards. Going to the actual bank, I found the changes also mean there is no longer a separate Select Banking line. I had to wait with everyone else, but luckily brought a book to pass the time.

On the way to vote, I saw a "Wordplay" poster still up on some scaffolding on Broadway and smiled at the girl in red. The sidewalk around the polling place was filled with people handing out leaflets, standing the designated distance from the school. One guy in a suit was probably a candidate but I didn't stay to find out. He wasn't my assemblyman, Daniel (brother of Rosie) O'Donnell. I was reminded of an election day long ago when a pale, forlorn-looking Robert Wagner, Jr. (the former mayor's son) stood in that very spot. He didn't seem to relish the glad-handing of politics. He died at age 49 in 1993.

Inside, the polling place wasn't crowded but not empty either. The guy at the desk commented on my unusual name and I told him it had probably been changed at some point in the old country. I signed my name in the big notebook and stepped into a curtained voting machine which probably dated from the original Robert Wagner administration. Pull the large lever, click to vote, pull the lever back. No chads, no mess.
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