The Election Nobody Votes In

Hope you vote. I do, every time, even on the upcoming Tuesday, April 6, when I know hardly anyone will vote. Worse than an August election. Just checked the county-wide ballot online. The only candidates on the ballot are seven people running for the school board. No political affiliations are given. Six are female. Four of them, in their professional "candidate" photographs, have dyed blond hair.

 

Nothing against it, except that if you are the sort who conforms to what every other under-60 white woman in the suburbs and exurbs and countryside is doing by bottle-blonding your hair like a TV personality, even if it looks nice I don't want to vote for you.

 

I carefully read all the candidates' biographies and statements so that I would be an informed voter. Only two of the candidates had experience on a school board. These same ones wanted what I want from a school-board member: Someone with an educational background and positive plans. 

 

They were the two women on the slate who were not dyed blond. [A rude observation that should go here has been withheld.] Coincidence, I guess.

Spider Caucus

It's election day not only here in the human world but among the daddy-long-legs. They are caucusing to nominate candidates for president of my bathroom. The office includes nice perks: water (in these times of severe drought) and a human occupant who doesn't squash them or allow any juveniles to pull off their legs. It's a two-party system divided along color lines; you can see two centrists working hard to create common ground. They are all happy to quit making those dreadful political commercials accusing each other of lying and support for gay marriage and whatnot. The truth is that after the vote and a few martinis these are the gayest spiders I have ever seen.

Daddy-long-legs often gather in groups, what the biologists call "aggregation behavior," and nobody but me knows why. Somebody needs your vote today, so please vote.