Electioneering

I voted.
And I just feel dirty.
Our great state held its primary election yesterday and I promised myself that I wouldn't give in to the crushing peer pressure that surrounds today's political climate. Everyone banters around obtuse and antiquated terms like "fundamental freedom" and "civic duty" and "Vote or Die". Well, normally those clichéd platitudes wouldn't phase me. But they came from my mother. And at 28-years-old, she can still guilt me into doing just about anything.
Sitting in a booth at a busy Taco Bell during lunch yesterday, amongst Chili-cheese Gorditas and a Nachos Bell Grande, my mother chose that forum to browbeat me into explaining why I was not fulfilling my obligations to the Social Contract. As her voice rose above the Tex-Mex fast food din of clanging cash registers and crinkling burrito paper wrappers she openly questioned my patriotism and loyalty to democracy.
As I munched on Cinnamon Twists and sipped Baja Blast Dew, I tried to explain to her that I have gone out of my way this time around to remain blissfully uninformed about the candidates because, well, they're ridiculous. This 2008 election season has seemingly lasted since the early 90s and frankly, I'm sick of it. The rhetoric has gotten to such a frenzied pitch that I can't tell a politicker from an infomercial pitchman.
She wouldn't let up, however, and I was shamed into reluctantly skulking into the local elementary school to engage in my inherent right as an American:
The privilege of reckless, uninformed choice.
I wouldn't presume to let you know who I voted for in the presidential primary. After all, I need to maintain my journalistic integrity. But for you super sleuths out there, I'll give you a clue: I voted for a female. Now if you can decipher that little riddle, Encyclopedia Brown, then kudos to you.
However, later in the day while visiting my parent's house, I made the mistake of disclosing my candidate of choice to my ultra-conservative, right-wing father (that's not an insult, BTW, he wears that badge proudly). I was met with the following response: 'You voted for a woman? I thought we raised you better than that.'
That pretty much speaks for itself.
But the phrase 'namby-pamby, liberal, Democrat pansy-boy' was thrown at me as well. Now that's kinda harsh. I'd never label myself a Democrat.
So I asked him what issues or policies that he took exception to in regard to my choice. He told me that he didn't really know much about the issues - only enough to be dangerous. I think I've heard him say the exact same thing about computers, car maintenance and, apparently, parenting.
Then mom came home.
And we all shared a hearty laugh.