Time to Take the Wheel
Glenn, MI
Early morning, alone by the lake, some thoughts come to mind, and coalesce here.
Tonight is the first in a series of presidential election debates, which will no doubt echo with the cadence of Cicero, the rhetoric of Demosthenes, and the rhythm of Homer. It will evoke the heady days of Webster, Clay, Calhoun, and Bryan, each of whom would no doubt cower in envy before the towering eloquence of tonight’s contestants.
We have the perfect candidates for our wacky time. A cartoon character carnival barker defends his office against a corrupt quasi-demented hack. It’s Yosemite Sam against Elmer Fudd. They’ll have pistols drawn. But both will be shooting at us, even if more sinister sketch-artists are actually pulling the trigger.
Regardless (or, really, because of) the comedic carnage, we can’t resist the spectacle. At the appointed hour, we will settle into our ringside seats…our popcorn ready, our wine uncorked, our breath bated.
But behind the verbal gun-play are weighty matters.
Every four years we face what we are assured is the “most important election of our lifetimes”, and exhorted with corresponding urgency to cast our ballot.
Politics thrives on hyperbole, and on fear. But this year does feel more consequential, and frightening, than the typical quadrennial cycle. Maybe this really is our “most important election ever”.
Debt skyrockets. Wall Street inflates. Main Street implodes. The culture disintegrates. Riots plague cities. Plague runs riot. Half the country hates the other with a passion matched only by the loathing flowing the other way. The situation is bleak. Now is not the time to keep quiet, withhold our ballot, or rest on our laurels.
A lot is on the line. Theory and abstractions must yield to reality and practicality. This year, perhaps more than any, it is imperative that we vote – and the height of irresponsibility not to.
That should go without saying, but modern America seems to have a tenuous grasp of the obvious. It is increasingly ungrateful for what it has, unaware how it got it, and unappreciative of the rate it is being lost.
The right to vote is fundamental, and foundational. Men fought for it, and died for it. Women marched, made their voices heard, and secured suffrage. Blacks risked (and gave) their lives, suffered imprisonment, and endured unspeakable abuse to obtain the franchise.
Even the whipper-snappers joined the agitation. Eighteen year-olds took to the streets and burned draft cards, lit a fire under their elders, and sparked a realization that an obligation to visit Vietnam should at least entail an opportunity to vote. In 1971, with the 26th Amendment, they got it.
But they rarely use it. That must change.
Voting is not just a privilege. It is a responsibility – that too many of us shirk. Our forefathers built this country, and bequeathed it to us. We owe it to them, and to each other, to maintain it.
Voting is a part of doing so. It is not too much to ask each of us to do it. Voting is how society periodically checks its tires, changes the oil, and replaces the filters. The results may sometimes seem inconsequential, and to provide little immediate benefit. But avoiding the effort will eventually kill the engine, and halt the progress, of the American experiment.
Thru the windshield, the outlook is ominous. And the national dashboard is lighting up like the crowd at a Pink Floyd concert. Warning signs are flashing everywhere. Fluid is leaking, belts are snapping, and smoke is pouring from under the hood. Meanwhile, like Quint in Jaws, our leaders press ahead full-steam, with the throttle wide open.
It is up to us to grab the wheel, shift gears, and change direction. If nothing else, we must roll this jalopy into the shop before it breaks down, or flies off a cliff. If we won’t, who will? Absent our intervention, our elected leaders show no inclination to do so.
That should come as no surprise. Objects in motion tend to stay in motion, until something intercedes. And for now, politicians have the top down, four on the floor, whiskey in hand, and wedding rings in their pockets. Unchecked, they won’t change.
And, in fairness, why should they? Unless we occasionally pull them over, check their credentials, and ask them to step out of the car, they will naturally assume they are taking us where we want to go. By voting, we reassess or reaffirm our desired destination, and the pace and means of getting there. If we don’t, we have no right to complain when we arrive.
But more is at stake than the outcome of an election. Aside from choosing candidates or determining policy, voting sustains our system, fosters cohesion, and strengthens community. Low turnout implies apathy, breeds cynicism, and undermines legitimacy.
It also reflects ingratitude, and insensitivity. Voting is a rather recent, and still a relatively restricted, global prerogative. While many Americans have died for it, others around the world would kill for it.
And even where it exists…like in our urban ghettos or rural hovels…politics impacts the poor, disabled, and distraught to a greater extent than it does everyone else. The least we can do is take a few minutes every couple years to cast our ballot, to let them know we have not cast them aside. That small act costs us little, but can mean the world to them. The effort is as meaningful as the effect.
Anyone is of course free not to vote. But much as a right to do something does not mean we should, the inverse is also true. A lack of compulsion does not imply a dearth of duty. With citizenship comes responsibilities. Many, like casting a ballot, entail little effort. And refusing them warrants little excuse.
Circumstances require action, and the time demands it. We are blessed with a tool unknown to most of the world before American independence, and denied to much of it since. We do the deprived, and ourselves, a disservice when we don’t use it.
One vote may not decide an election. Withholding enough of them may seal our fate.
But, for now…our coffee cup is empty, and David is waking up. So I’ll go see my son, refill my cup, and continue these thoughts another time…
JD
