Even though New York was not in question, I didn't want to miss participating in this historic vote. Horror stories of long lines filled the media, but I thought midafternoon might be OK. I went to the public school polling place at 3, and while the gym was crowded with people and 20 machines, my specific district had 2 machines (one not used at that hour), and a line of just 5 people. I was #215 at machine 2. There was a feeling of excitement in the air, but I think that gym felt even more electric in 1992 when Clinton unseated Bush the father. I clicked down the levers, and then realized I wanted to vote on the Working Families line, so unclicked and reclicked over there.
I then went to the post office and waited on a much longer line (but the bank wasn't crowded).
That night, I saw "A Tale of Two Cities," heard rumors during intermission (Pennsylvania!) and rushed home to watch the returns, switching from news stations to Comedy Central. I went in the other room to check e-mail when it suddenly sounded like New Year's Eve outside: horns, noise, cheering, giddiness. It was 11 and the race had been called. I went back to the TV, watched speeches, cried. Quite a night.
The following evening, I attended a post-election panel at the 92nd St. Y, billed as part of a comedy festival. But the comedy was drowned out by typical political talking-head arguing and yelling (and people asking questions about their own personal issues). Oh well.
Now the work begins.