Last time, in central PA, we waited 2 hours in a retirement home to vote, in a precinct that overcame its previous record for numbers of voters at about 10 am.
This time, in Baltimore, we waited for 5 minutes in the basement of a church (address number? 4700. Love it). I had three books in my backpack just in case. So much for optimism. While waiting in the short line, a woman left the polling area with tears in her eyes. "Big election" she explained.
Yep. Didn't know what she meant really until I was tapping the touchscreen to vote for Obama/Biden. Something about the ritual of it. Millions of people doing this same thing, today, all over the country. The buzz of excitement in the room. The nervous energy. The historic stuff about voting for a black man, too. Almost two years of watching the campaign, debating, cheering him on, and it's not really real until just then. Brings a tear to the eye.
And now the wait begins.
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