Early voting in Dayton

DSC_0161, originally uploaded by Rock the Vote 2008.

Thursday, October 30th, 2008

3:50 p.m. – I am listening to NPR describe the diverse types of skinheads who live in America as I wait for two University of Dayton Students to finish voting early. It’s weirdly sunny right now given the dreadful weather of the last few days. I woke up this morning expecting blizzards and frozen streets. I haven’t done laundry in a week and I would rather be cold than smelly, so pulled on one of my few clean t-shirts and a pair of jeans. Then I thought better of it and added a pair of long underwear I bought last week to ward off the numbing cold. Now it’s sixty five degrees outside and I am sweating like a polar bear in Florida.

The kids voting, the ones I dropped off, have been in there for over an hour now. I walked in to check on them and they seem fine, if a little impatient. Ohioans know they might pick the president. They are voting early in astonishing numbers and the early vote centers are swamped. The woman at the front is giving out numbers and one of the kids is number 1247. So there have been at least that many voters by 2:00 p.m. on this idle Thursday. The kids I drove listened to Sheryl Crow and Ben Stiller and the Beastie Boys at the Rock the Vote rally this afternoon. The celebrities told them there were shuttles to the polls. I drove one of those shuttles.

Other members of the bus tour crew drove the celebrities back to wherever celebrities go after concerts. I harbor no bitterness. Sure, I imagine that the celebrity vans are probably going to some underground celebrity party with champaign fountains and elephant rides, but waiting by the early voting center and listening to Neal Conan describe skinheads on ‘Talk of the Nation’ is fun too.

4:40 p.m. – The voters are done. I hand them both ‘I rocked the vote’ stickers because nothing says ‘ROCK!’ like a sticker. They seem satisfied with themselves and the stickers and one says “I’m just glad that when I hear results on election day, my ballot will already be counted.”

The other kid gives me a look. “You said it would take twenty minutes,” he says. It’s true, I did. In my defense, the last time I was here it did take twenty minutes. I took an aspiring hip hopper named Swol to the polls and he registered and voted on the same day. He gave me a copy of his album.

“Sorry boss,” I tell him. “It took twenty minutes the last time I was here. I took an aspiring hip hoper named Swol. He gave me a copy of his album.”

The kid has lost interest. He’s already thinking about plans for the night. “Have you ever done a 9-hole?” he asks. It sounds either like something from golf or something unspeakably depraved. He doesn’t wait for an answer “it’s nine different kinds of shots from nine different houses. We’re celebrating tonight! Wanna come?”

I do a bit. An easy night wandering through strangers’ houses as they hand you booze sounds fun. But the bus is moving on. There are voters to bus to polls and celebrities to hear and, most immediately, a long drive to Minneapolis tomorrow. Five more days to election.

I drop them both back at the University of Dayton. “Call if you want to come hang out,” he yells as I pull away.

--Nick Brown