REAL LIFE VOTING

(this was written in November 2004 in response to an article published in the LA Times, which I found patronizing, about the importance of taking your children with you to the polling booth)

I grew up in a large family: two brothers, two sisters. I don't often admit it, certainly not while they are around, but I am the oldest.

We are the children of immigrants from Scotland via Canada. My parents arrived in the States in 1955, became citizens and to my knowledge, have never missed a vote.

My father never took any of us to the polling booth. Unusual since he took us everywhere - or almost everywhere. In hindsight, I realize he only took us to places where little lost children could be turned in and held safely until their distracted father had finished rounding up the other four kids. I believe at one point the manager at K-Mart was invited for Thanksgiving dinner.

The polling booth is no place for children. As the mother of four I think the Florida debacle in 2000 was probably caused by stressed-out mothers who mistakenly thought they were doing their civic duty by bringing along their children. Phrases like "pregnant chad" do not spring up in the vernacular without a reason. Letting a child pull the handle certainly sheds some light on all those Buchanan votes in South Florida.

But the Flanagan children did not need to see their father in action at the polling booth to know he was voting. He has argued passionately about politics his whole life. In my family "debate" is considered performance art and making someone cry is considered a victory.

The problem with my father is that while he thoroughly enjoys a good debate, he long ago realized that the more outrageous the comment, the more fun the debate. I spent a good part of the early 70's arguing that Nixon would not, in fact, make a good dictator. After Nixon's resignation things got a little quiet around the Flanagan dinner table (or did I finally get a date - I don't remember); say what you want about Gerald Ford, but it's hard to get passionate either way.

But with current events being what they are, Flanagan gatherings are definitely getting more lively. There are some members of the family who believe that California's three-strikes law is unconstitutional; others believe the appropriate sentence for toilet papering a house would be 25 years.

My children are learning from the master that there is no point which cannot be belabored indefinitely; that an accomplished debater can switch sides with no notice if things are getting too agreeable, and that if you're going to hold an opinion, you had better be prepared to be the last man standing (the only true way to win) and whatever you do: don't cry. It's the only thing everyone will remember.

See you at the polling both (sans children) and don't forget to check your chads.