Short Memories

Was it six months ago that I walked to the polls at the crack of sunlight to vote for Barack Obama and was encountered by a line of people that stretched around the block? It doesn't seem like it. Everybody was talking politics and everyone was talking about voting. This blog was started during that period and five out of six posts I did back then spoke about the primaries, "this" candidate, and "that" candidate. Was it six months ago that I last voted? I suppose it was.

In November, I saw people in the lines at my polling place that I hadn't seen in years. People I who thought were dead were, in fact, alive and on fire about voting. One old man got in line twice that fateful day in November. When he was told that he had already voted, he said without shame..."That's alright, I just wanted Barack to know that I'm still here, just in case he needed an extra vote." We all had a good laugh but, I couldn't knock his spirit.

Yesterday was another election. I had no trouble getting to the polls, there were no long lines, and no electricity in the air. There was roughly 100 people at the polling place (that in itself was a small miracle, I expected less). It was what my wife calls one of those "little elections". We had several judges running for re-election and some for "first time" posts in the Court of Common Pleas. We had an election for a new District Attorney too but, not many people took notice. Now that Obama is president, I'm afraid that is the extent of most people's political astuteness.

Do you know why I voted? Okay, not just so I would have a post to write about in "Keith's Space" or so I wouldn't look like a hypocrite but because every election is important. You don't think a D.A. is important? Think about the next time your car gets stolen or you get robbed and a "miracle of miracles" happens... the police actually catch the guy. Wouldn't you want the D.A.'s office to assure you that justice is served? If you don't care, then don't complain when the guy who robbed your house is riding home on the bus with you the next afternoon because the D.A.'s office wasn't prepared for his case, they had to throw it out, or they had to hold it up. A judge is also important but, no one seems to think so, until they are in front of one. Here's a story...

When I was in college, I rarely locked my room. Any and everybody I knew went in, went out, ate, slept in my bed, took a shower, and what have you. I was rarely ever there. One day a guy took some girl in my room and got in the bed with her but, he failed to lock the door. Well, her boyfriend walked in on her and this guy in mid-stroke. In anger, he lifted a chair and sailed it out of my window!

My college was a state owned school and, therefore, all of the property in it was owned by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Even though I wasn't present at the time of the altercation, I was handed a bill by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania for the damages. It is times like this that I did what any young man would do... I called my mama!

You know, it's a wonder I'm alive considering all of the trouble I seemed to get myself into. My mother gave me the money, mortified as she was, and we secured an attorney who I'll call "Hickock" (this was not his real name and he wasn't a real attorney to me either). He was supposed to represent me in Small Claims Court or whatever they had in that county... it might as well have been Klan County. I wasn't in Philly... I was in upstate Pennsylvania, where I think the mayor was also the barber and the postman in this county.

This knucklehead attorney (and I use that term loosely) falls asleep during my hearing and begins to snore. To make matters worse, I think he passed gas too. As you can imagine, I lost my case. I didn't really have one to begin with but the judge, an old gray-haired white man that I might have called a redneck in some other time or place, had pity on me. He said that under the circumstances, I didn't have proper representation and he reduced the amount of money I had to pay for the window and the damaged chair to under $500.00. It could have been worse.

In hindsight, I might have been better off just paying the bill and saving the state the cost of that silly hearing. Needless to say, they allowed me to pay it in installments. I had a job cleaning the pool and another one working in the cafeteria. I paid it off but, I didn't go on any dates for awhile. My mom just looked at me and shook her head, like she had done many times before. Yet, this woman never abandoned me... no matter what stupid thing I did or situation I managed to get myself into. She just shook her head, with that mortified look that I now perfectly understand.

When there is an election for a judge, I remember that kind old man who gave a 21 year old immature black kid a break one day. I remember to vote because, as unimportant as these type of elections may seem to some people, you never know when you might come before a judge and you want it to be a good and compassionate judge.

My memory is still sharp. I remember things and I look up the records of people I might have to vote for one day. My political astuteness didn't end with Barack Obama's election. I don't have a short memory and I hope you all don't either. Vote, while you still can!