“What?”

“What?”

That word will forever keep you at a distance.
A disdain for a lie, echoed by innocence, forged through proximity.

I cannot look and admire without its deliberate reverberation.
Alter a subject without its halting response.
Speak of another without its arrogant retort.
Refer to a passing conversation without its kindly rejoinder.

It keeps me from Love.

From a solemn appreciation of
Your silence and of
Your beauty and of
Your individuality.

17.11.2012

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My Post-Election Post to America

“America I’ve give you all and now I am nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January
17, 1956.”
Allen Ginsberg, America (quoted throughout)

I realized that many of my readers do not reside in the US of A, but are interested in the election that took place Tuesday night. So, I thought it would be nice to share my good ‘ol American Election Day experience with all of you. Hope you enjoy!

I think this story should begin with a basic outline just one day before the election.

Monday, November 5, 2012:

  • Teaching class: 8am-noon
  • IT training: Noon-12:45pm
  • Skype w/gf 2:15-3:30pm
  • Working the latte fields: 4:30-10:30pm.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012:

  • Back slangin’ espresso: 7am-3:30pm
  • Vote: sometime between 4:30-5:00pm
  • Droppin’ knowledge on those college kids: 6pm-10pm

“When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?”

I left work at 3:30pm, speeding down the remainder of the highway after avoiding a major traffic jam on the main drag. All day they came in to the latte factory. In droves. All wearing that little, red sticker: “I Voted”. They looked so happy. So proud. And, boy, were they out and about. By the end of my shift, I was scratching to get out of there. After battling my way home through traffic, showering, eating, writing a few last minute discussion questions, I had about 30 minutes to vote.

“America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.”

According to an online ABC news report, there are 13 various retail & food establishments offering free swag, or “freebies,” for any citizen who walks in wearing an “I Voted” sticker. Including, a free taco at California Tortilla, or a coupon for a free small fry at White Castle. A customer asked me if we had any “freebies,”–yes, apparently this person had been driving place to place collecting free crap, sorry, swag–and that is when it hit me: this was a holiday for most people. For most people, those average 9-5 working stiffs, this was a day or morning off to do your patriotic duty, grab a latte and go to work. I found it odd that no customer asked whether I had voted. It isn’t that I wanted their attention or recognition, no, but the phenomena itself amazed me. Nothing defines America like spending; consuming; buying; couponing; driving-eating-sitting-repeat. But who makes those tacos? Who makes the small fry? Do they vote? When is their opportunity to raise their individual voice and be heard, as so many celebrities encourage us to do?

“It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.”

Luckily, I was pre-registered. I got in line, grabbed a pen, my ballot, and waited a few minutes in another line before entering a rickity, blue plastic-shielded, podium-like desk offering the intimacy I had waited for all day: Me and My Ballot. Alone at last. In Minnesota we were voting whether a marriage should be constitutionally defined as between one man and one woman. I voted “no” so I can finally marry that squirrel that has been digging up my flower box this last spring–that little nose is so cute! We were also wondering whether Minnesotans should, nay, must, present valid ID before voting. Again, “no.” Mostly because I have quite a few IDs, I’m pretty darn trusting (Midwestern!), and I am really not interested in being hassled outside voting stations in the future by people looking to “borrow” my expired driver’s license so they can illegally vote. That just sounds obnoxious. We Minnesotans like to keep to ourselves. And eat venison. Most likely with mashed potatoes and green beans. Butter only. No spices. Unless butter counts as a spice.

“America is this correct?”

America why is voting on Tuesday? America why is voting not a national holiday? America I will not google the answer to those questions, but hope that my readers understand their rhetorical nature. America I received nearly three emails a day from this Obama character asking me to vote, but not once in his quite informal address to me did he write this:

“Hey Shawn.

Listen, I know you are working 12 hours the Tuesday of Election Day, so what I did was ask congress to figure out how we can make voting easier for you: the working man. Tell you what we’re gonna do: we are going to either make Election Day a national holiday (we’re gonna shut down everything so you all have an opportunity to vote), or we’re gonna move the Election Day. Bush moved daylight savings time, I can move the Election Day.
I’m the President, damn it!
But I won’t be unless you find time to vote for me this Tuesday.
Let’s move forward.

Love ya pal,
Barack H-bomb Obama.”

And he probably never will, but I still think he’s a damn fine president. And I’ll make a 30-minute window in between a 12-hour work day be the time that I vote for our president, Barack Obama. Thanks for reading everyone. I hope your election day went well.

-Ginsberg, Allen. America. University of Pennsylvania. http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/america.html. Web. 22 March 2009.