When I took Frankie to school today, the little village of Dearham was abuzz with activity. It's election day in the UK, and the polling place on the main drag was already starting to fill up.
It's weird to be in a foreign country on their election day. I don’t know anything about anyone who is running, and I have no clue what the different political positions are. It’s a total mystery. In a way, it kind of feels like being fourteen again, when politics and elections didn’t even register a blip on my radar.
Interestingly, there doesn’t seem to be nearly the advertising and hullabaloo that there is leading up to election day in the states. Maybe it’s just because we’re in a small town, but the whole affair seems much more reserved. Of course, it’s also possible that it seems more reserved because I don’t really have a huge interest in the outcome of the election. I guess if you don’t really care who wins an election, you get much more emotionally detached from the proceedings.
Still, it's kind of surreal being in the middle of an election, yet feeling totally detached from it.
I'd voted in two elections by the time I turned 14. But, then again, I had a sweet mustache.
ReplyDeleteWalrus, handlebar, or catfish-style?
ReplyDeletePencil-thin. The Boston Blackie kind.
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