Ours is a household of political junkies, so when my daughter turned 18, I wrapped her birthday presents in voter registration forms.

Now eligible to buy lottery tickets and cigarettes, join the Army, and vote (but not drink), she sat down with me at the dining room table piled high with Voter Guides, newspaper clippings, endorsements, and a small forest’s worth of glossy political ads.

Too bad about the drinking age thing, because we both could have used a good stiff one to get through the mountains of spinformation in front of us.

The lesson commenced. “It’s pretty impossible to be well informed about all the issues and candidates,” I instructed. “So one strategy is to follow the recommendations of people you trust. Or compare all the editorial endorsements of various newspapers and average them out.

“Then there are plenty of well-intended but poorly drafted initiatives. You have to decide what message you want to send or whether to vote purely on the merits. It’s perfectly reasonable to vote your ideals, but it’s also a good strategy to vote pragmatically.”

“This is really depressing,” sighed my daughter, staring at hundreds of blank bubbles on her absentee ballot.

Now my daughter has registered in another state where she goes to college, outside our sphere of influence. She is swamped with schoolwork and never has time even to glance at headlines.

I wonder how she’ll vote.

I wonder if she’ll vote.

By Lorrie Goldin

Labels: Army, Lorrie Goldin, lottery tickets, Vote, voter guides

Stumble This Post