Path: bloom-picayune.mit.edu!snorkelwacker.mit.edu!americast.com!americast.com!americast-post Newsgroups: americast.twt.life From: americast-post@AmeriCast.Com Organization: American Cybercasting Approved: americast-post@AmeriCast.com Subject: The great undecided, singing the E-Day blues Date: Mon, 2 Nov 92 15:45:13 EST Message-ID: \SE D;LIFE \HD The great undecided, singing the E-Day blues \BY Anne Gowen \CR THE WASHINGTON TIMES You don't know how it could have come down to this - being unable to lean one way or another, so paralyzingly perched - on the fence, STILL, today, the day before Election Day. Everything confuses you - you worry about the situation in Russia, the Serbs, the Croats, Saddam. The upwardly clicking numbers of the national deficit have taken the form of symphony music that invades your dreams at night. You remember the election in Great Britain, in April, when John Major's Conservative Party upset Neil Kinnock's Labor and an amazingly large percentage of voters made up their minds at the ballot box. This comforts you. It might comfort at least one of the presidential campaigns here, as well. You tell your friends loudly you can't in good conscience vote for either one, Clinton or Bush, much less Perot. This is a new thing. You didn't even know you had a conscience. You say that to a pollster who calls your house. You! Polled! You say the "U" word. Somehow it makes it seem official. It makes you think back to how you got here, how you came to be so clearly and and unequivocally . . . undecided. THE PRIMARIES Watch Bill and Hillary on "60 Minutes." Snicker. Wonder what she sees in him. Wonder just how many women they mean, exactly, when they talk about "problems." Make up neat amalgams of their names. Billary. Dig out your old quilted velvet headband and put it on as you watch, for fun. Watch Bush self-destruct in New Hampshire. Giggle when he says "Message: I care." Pick it up and use it in your personal correspondence. To your mother: "Message: Send Gifts." To your roommate: "Message: Clean Out the Lint Trap Next Time." THE CONVENTIONS The Democrats: Refuse to get choked up when Al Gore talks about his son's car accident. Sit there, embarrassed for him. Wish Hillary would fix her American flag scarf, which has been pinned to her suit and is falling off. The Republicans: Spend August away. Refuse to watch TV or read any newspaper except USA Today. Take to listening to loud speed-metal music, preferably made by musicians from another country, or at least Seattle. THE DEBATES Watch the second-to-last debate with your roommate, your roommate's mother, who's visiting, and your drunk friend who works for a Republican senator. Your roommate's mother makes rude noises when Bush speaks. She's a liberal. Your drunk friend sits there muttering about how Clinton is going to raise estate taxes. Try to listen, but it's too loud in the room, especially when your roommate and her mother start a head-to-head argument on the question of character. "Nobody's perfect," your roommate's mother screams at her child. "You've been sitting there saying the f-word and your friend's half-drunk." The friend lurches out. Your roommate goes to her room and slams the door. Go hide in your own room when your roommate's mother starts sobbing that everything is always her fault. For the last debate, you are out of town on business and watch in the supreme quiet of your hotel room. Keep score. Wish you had a beer so you could drink every time the words "tax-and-spend" are uttered. Lose track of the chicken scratches on your scorecard, but think Perot might have won. THE DECISION On Election Day, wake slowly, get up, dress. Chew a piece of dry toast, for penance. Drag your moribund and scabrous self to the polling place near your house. Hope the lines are long so you'll have an excuse not to park. Park. Move to the polling booth. Lift the curtain, step into its claustrophobic inside. Wonder how you got here. Wonder if you'll be able to say with pride who you voted for, two or three years down the road. Or if your split-second decision will be a secret you'll hold close for the rest of your life. This article is copyright 1992 The Washington Times. Redistribution to other sites is not permitted except by arrangement with American Cybercasting Corporation. For more information, send-email to usa@AmeriCast.COM