I received my forwarded mail from Texas yesterday which is always a delight. Buried within the various magazines and bills was a notice from Sonoma County mailed to Texas with the residence address listed as the Cloverdale park where I worked. All I had to do was return the card to them with the address where I want my ballot sent. Best of all is the box to check that I want to be a permanent absentee voter.
Woohoo and hallelujah! I can vote.
Some of you may be wondering why all the fuss. I take my voting right very seriously. When I was in college at 16, it was 1965. My mother was a Republican and my stepfather a Democrat. We would have discussions at dinner about current events and politics: local, national and international. We covered communism, socialism, the peace movement, Vietnam, unions and the economy. Every time there was an election and they received their sample ballots, my parents would argue for weeks about their political preferences: "You Republicans don't care about the working man." "You'd vote for a monkey if he was a Democrat." Then they would go to the polling place, stick their chins out and cancel each other's vote. But they voted.
One of the worst problems I had being in college at 16 in the 60s was the fact that I couldn't vote until I turned 21. Five years was a long time to wait when you're politically active. I was thrilled when the voting age was lowered to 18: too late to help me when I needed it but a much more reasonable age.
Ever since I was able to vote in the 1972 election, I have never missed an opportunity to do so. My record is intact and my vote will be counted this year.