It is a rainy morning here in Virginia. Usually that means a low turnout at the polls, but with things so close I'm putting my money on people putting in the extra effort to vote.
I'm off myself - the polls don't open for another 20 minutes, but I want to vote before going into work and this is a new polling place for me, so I don't have the feel of how quickly they move along.
Grab an umbrella and hit the polls. Make your one vote count.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The polling place had a line when I arrived. I was about 5 minutes early. It looked like there were nearly 100 people already in line. Once the doors opened we began to swiftly move along. It took about 45 minutes for me to cast my ballot. This was from the time that I got into the car this morning until I was exiting the polling place. Not too bad.
I swung by for coffee at the Burger King and the manager there said that they had been hopping since they opened this morning. I suppose that there were a bunch of us out much earlier than normal, so that we could be sure that we were able to vote.
Jamie & Roz got into the office early this morning as well, both had been out to vote. Jamie was at the Crenshaw polling place at 4:30 a.m. to get in line and apparently the turnout even at that hour was tremendous. Roz on the other hand got to her polling place just before 6 a.m. and wasn't able to vote - she had to be at work. She reported that the lines were three across and wrapped around the building with the county police handling traffic control. People were even parking on Midlothian Turnpike so that they could walk to the polls.
It is going to be one mess for the rest of the day. They are seeing patients in the office today - I wonder how many will make it? Could the wait at the polls make a difference in the schedule today?
Email & Newsletter Gleanings:
My daughter's 5th-grade class had been studying astronomy.
One morning at breakfast she announced, "On Friday we're having a quiz on the moon." That's when her little brother piped up, saying, "Are you gonna let her go, Mom?"
"Freedom of the press belongs to the man who owns the press."
Thomas Edison's laboratory was virtually destroyed by fire in December, 1914.
Although the damage exceeded $2 million, the buildings were only insured for $238,000 because they were made of concrete and thought to be fireproof. Much of Edison's life's work went up in spectacular flames that December night.
At the height of the fire, Edison's 24-year old son, Charles, frantically searched for his father among the smoke and debris. He finally found him, calmly watching the scene, his face glowing in the reflection, his white hair blowing in the wind.
"My heart ached for him," said Charles. "He was 67 - no longer a young man - and everything was going up in flames. When he saw me, he shouted, "Charles, where's your mother?" When I told him I didn't know, he said, "Find her. Bring her here. She will never see anything like this as long as she lives."
The next morning, Edison looked at the ruins and said, "There is great value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew."
Three weeks after the fire, Edison managed to deliver his first phonograph.
One night a fellow drove his secretary home after she had imbibed a little too much at an office reception. Although this was an innocent gesture, he decided not to mention it to his wife, who tended to get jealous easily.
The next night the man and his wife were driving to a res- taurant. Suddenly he looked down and spotted a high-heel shoe half hidden under the passenger seat. Not wanting to be conspicuous, he waited until his wife was looking out her window before he scooped up the shoe and tossed it out of the car.
With a sigh of relief, he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. That's when he noticed his wife squirming around in her seat. "Honey," she asked, "have you seen my other shoe?"
One night a teenage girl brought her new boyfriend home to meet her parents, and they were appalled by his appearance: leather jacket, motorcycle boots, tattoos and pierced nose.
Later, the parents pulled their daughter aside and confessed their concern. "Dear," said the mother diplomatically, "he doesn't seem very nice."
"Oh please, Mom," replied the daughter, "if he wasn't nice, why would he be doing 500 hours of community service?"
"The word 'aerobics' came about when the gym instructors got together and said: If we're going to charge $10 an hour, we can't call it Jumping up and down."
"A letter carrier's career is a mail-dominated profession."
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