In my suffrage bucket list remains a fervent desire to once again vote for a candidate I truly want to win rather than fulfilling my patriotic duty by casting a ballot for a ne’er-do-well to prevent a worse ne’er-do-well from taking office.
In the 13 presidential elections I have tolerated I pulled the lever twice — in 1980 and 1984. Had I been born a year earlier I likely would have made it three, inspired by Goldwater Girl Hillary Rodham, who missed exercising her debut duty by four.
In my lifetime I have yet to cast a ballot for governor. Though I am a two-decades retired teacher, I could not bring myself to vote for incumbent Tom Wolf or the other guy whose name now escapes me.
Wolf expressed satisfaction, abetted by PSEA, that he rescued a billion dollars in education funding for the commonwealth. As far as I can determine, his justification for this salvage is two-fold: increased enrollment in preschool programs and a 90 percent graduation rate. Yet, those of us who never had the benefit of kindergarten, let alone preschool, wonder why we remain more knowledgeable and lucid than today’s graduates.
Also on my list is the elimination of smarmy editorials and letters to the editor urging us to get out the vote.
No longer is it realistic to expect a candidate of impeccable character with a genuine concern for constituents, comfortable enough in his personal integrity to forgo besmirching the name of his opponent and his family. Our nation continues to self-destruct through negative campaign ads, exacerbated by the self-righteous who revel in Supreme Court Borking, Thomasing, and Kavenaughing. And we as robotic voters buy into this virulence.
I continue to refuse to vote for someone I know little about other than what a rampant opponent spins.