Mrs. Archaeoperyx and I just returned from the county courthouse where we cast our ballots on one of those infernal touchscreen machines. We both voted against the gay-hate initiative (to make it illegal for unmarried (code for "gay") couples to act as foster parents). We cancelled each other out on a state lottery (she's for it, and I'm agin' it). We registered our Green-Party-protest votes against our Democratic Senator (a DINO and professed creationist who loves him some Joe Lieberman) and our Democratic Representative (he wants to drill ANWR). Not another single candidate on our ballots with an opponent, so screw 'em. As my mom used to say, they only need one vote, and they won't get it from me.
Oh, yeah, there was that other race. As we walked up to the courthouse a family of black people came out--a mom and three kids. The oldest daughter was wearing a cheerleader outfit, but she might have been old enough to cast her first ballot. If so, she had never voted in a presidential election where a black man wasn't favored to win. Inside, there were two voting machines. At one of the machines was a black man in his late fifties or early sixties. At the other was one of my colleagues. I knew how both men were voting--same way as me. I joked with the poll workers, "How much does it cost to vote again?"
As we finished, a white couple came in to cast their ballots. Maybe late thirties or early forties. Were they cancelling out our votes? As we walked out the door of the courthouse, we passed a black woman who might have been seventy. She smiled at me.