Voting by mail just not appealing

There’s a well worn saying that goes “the more things change, the more they remain the same.”

To which I say, bah humbug!

Not the bah humbug associated with Christmas…I LOVE Christmas! I chose bah humbug because it’s not a word or phrase that you can’t or at least shouldn’t say in print.

This bah humbug is directed at the current voting situation. I don’t like it!

Since I was 18 back in 1972 and had the wonderful experience of voting for the first time, other than voting for myself as 5th grade class president, I have never missed a general election.

Walking into that voting booth, well actually squeezing into that voting booth, was like one of those epiphany moments where the voices rise in unison as the sun bathed me and harmless animals flitted about.

This was little me, a citizen from the great state of Montana, doing my duty and letting my voice be heard. I can’t remember if is was a pull-lever type voting thing back then or a fill in the circle thing that still exists today.

But it was cool!

This year’s election, with all the squabbling and accusations flying faster than Joe hits the basement, those choir-like voices and flitting animals have become a bad rap song amid a flock of China virus bats.

Perhaps most aggravating of all is putting a ballot in an envelope and then dropping it off at the Post Office or watching it disappear into the gaping mouth of a ballot collection box.

No happy-to-be-there volunteer ladies signing you in and cheerfully handing you a ballot to take to the booth. No line of other voters trying to be cool about their choices. No pulling back the curtain and entering into the world of “me, US Citizen” doing my part for democracy.

No opening the curtain and emerging with a strange feeling of power and accomplishment.

Nope, the ballot collection box just ate my ballot. It will go for at least one short ride in the back of a truck, stuffed in a bag.

This whole thing is somehow night right. It reeks, as I have said before, of showering with your socks on. No, I have never showered with my socks on in any sober minute I’ve been on this planet.

It’s not right like passing gas in church…loudly, praying the Pastor doesn’t single you out.

It’s not right like sticking gum under your school desk or talking during a movie. It’s the kind of not right like surfing in a hurricane or throwing alka-seltzer tablets into a flood.

I want the ability to walk into that sacred booth, knowing that’s what everyone who cares about this great country is doing on that one, very special day. I want to feel that sense of pride as my friends and neighbors see me emerging from the polling station, grinning ear to ear.

Instead, I’m left with the feeling something major is missing. Oh, I’m still proud to have cast my ballot, selected what I hope will be good people who lead this great nation.

But seeing black smoke curling up around the taillights of a mail truck departing with my ballot just ain’t getting it done.

Maybe I could get some John Phillip Souza recordings and play them every time I come out of my house. Perhaps I could rig up red, white and blue confetti to fall from the ceiling in my house when I come home.

Something, anything to erase this hollow feeling of knowing there are maybe not so good intentions behind the current forms of balloting.

Change, in this case and in my humble opinion, is one big super bummer!!

Chuck Kvelve Bandel is a reporter for the Mineral Independent and Clark Fork Valley Press. His “Kvelve’s Comments” column appears weekly.