Cats Can Count

Day 11: There is no time like the present to prove that cats can count. I don't usually wear my politics on my sleeve because I was brought up in an era when politics, religion and sex were not things you shared with the world at large. I was also brought up in an era when cursing was frowned on, when dishonesty in business and personal dealings was punished, when adultery was cause for social ostracization, when penises were never a fit subject in a campaign speech, when candidates for major offices (and even minor ones) were intelligent and well-spoken, and were the kind of people we held up for our children to emulate. No, we weren't perfect in those days. There were hate groups and vulgar people. There was discrimination. There were crooks and con men, to be sure, but we didn't put them on pedestals and idolatrize them. In fact, we condemned them, spurned them, in many cases incarcerated them as not fit to walk among us freely. We loved America for what it stood for: freedom and justice for all, a land of opportunity, a working democracy. Where did we go off the rails? Don't answer that. I know you know, right to the day. So here's your chance to get it right. Get off your furry behinds, cats, and go vote.

Visual Metaphor

Day 134: Rural residents of Washington have been able to vote by mail for decades, and I believe the option now extends to urban residents as well. I used to think this was a good thing, but several other factors make me very nervous. Some time ago, we went to numbered ballots and a big deal was made out of the fact that you can check on line to see if your ballot number has been counted. In the current presidential primary, you are required to declare a party affiliation by checking the appropriate box on the outside of the return envelope. Your name and your ballot number also appear on the return envelope, and therefore may not be quite as "confidential" as you are led to believe. Once completed, your ballot can be dropped at a collection site or it can be put in the mail...to pass through the hands of any number of postal employees and/or contract carriers who can see your party declaration. While I'd like to believe that everyone who handles my ballot is a fine, upstanding citizen, the current political climate does not allow me that comfort. Even if I had that assurance, I'm still left with the feeling that my vote is...well, surely you've picked up on the visual metaphor in the photo by now.