You know that classic bit of Mom advice about looking presentable, even if you’re just running out for a carton of milk, because you never know whom you’ll run into? Well, turns out, it's right on the money.
It’s 7:50 Tuesday evening and I am on countdown to the 8:00 pm start of “American ldol” when the phone rings. It’s my friend Sheri, citizen exemplar. “Did you vote?” she asks. “Vote?” I think to myself. I haven’t even seen the performances yet, so how could I vote? Turns out she meant the local school budget/board election, not AI. And no, I haven’t. It had completely slipped my mind. I am in sleeping sweats and an oversized T-shirt. My face is washed clean of make-up, slathered with moisturizer, and my hair is pulling back in a scrungie. Perfect for Idol watching, not so much for public consumption. Plus, the polls close at 9 PM, the exact time Ryan S. signs off. So, the choice: Do I go?
My conscience kicks in. I want to be a good citizen and exercise my civic duty. But. The Idol is about to start and there is also the pesky little matter of my appearance. I come up with a compromise. I’ll watch the three finalists’ first songs, run out in the middle to vote, and hopefully return for the recap, a plan that allows, however, for little more than a two-second brush through my hair while at a stop light. (It’s times like these that I can really appreciate the appeal of a fashion statement like the burka.) But, I reassure myself, how many people that I know could I possibly run into during the six minutes it’ll take to practice good citizenship?
The answer to that would be: plenty, or one for each minute of my polling blitz, including a neighbor, a friend, a friend of a friend, my kids' former babysitter, AND one of their past teachers and his wife. Spotting each, I am faced with another choice: Do I go for the quick power sprint hello and risk being branded unfriendly, or do I go with the longer chatty greeting format, which not only gives the person I chat with more time to get a good look at me (“What’s with Laurie? She looks so tired lately!”) but also cuts into my Idol watching time.
I end up wimping out and going with the combo approach, which only succeeds in leaving people both ticked off and wondering why I look like I just rolled out of bed. The good news? I am soon back in front of the TV having missed only two songs and lots of commercials. The budget passed, my school board candidates won, and no chads were left hanging out for all to see—just you-know-who.
