MY SAY: FORGET HANGING CHADS
Not that many years ago one went to vote. One found the district. One stood and waited until the 107-year-old volunteers (bless them) found your name, and then you entered a booth, drew a curtain behind you and pressed little levers for your choices.
Now, for inexplicable reasons, you get a two-sided paper with little circles above each candidate that one must fill. You do this while standing behind a three-sided booth. Then you take this paper, covered by a manila folder, to another centenarian who removes the manila folder and tells you to place your paper in a scanner. Mine came back because the little circles were not filled in. Back to the first booth where you correct your error after waiting on line for an available booth, and then it is back to the scanner which, after a wait with your paper exposed to nosy onlookers, eats your paper of choices.
Where my sons vote six scanners were out of order and the wait was interminable. I was lucky. The younger volunteers, in their late eighties, recognized another superannuated woman and ushered me through.
Why did they replace an efficient system where you could do your patriotic duty in minutes behind the curtain with one that crowds the room with perplexed people wandering back and forth seeking the right booth and then the right scanner? I’ll never know. When I voted for Grover Cleveland it was so easy.
But why complain? My candidate won.
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