Some of the things I heard while standing in line at my polling place in West Philadelphia this morning…
“We’re making history today, boy!”
“Oh my Lord, you’re all grown up, I haven’t seen you in, what, 15 years!”
“Don’t let them turn you away. You have the right to cast a provisional ballot.”
“He’s said he ain’t. He can’t. Said he has a warrant and there’s gonna be cops there.”
“I’m still recovering from my Phillies hangover. Where’s the party tonight?”
“It stopped working altogether at #XXXX. It was having problems from #XXXY to #XXXZ.”
“Call him. Get his ass up. Tell him I said so. He’s going to vote.”
“Ain’t no stopping us now. We’re on the move.”
I, personally, had fun standing in line. I waited for about 60 minutes to cast my ballot. That was 60 minutes of people watching and light chat. It struck me as a particularly neighborly experience. Several old friends were catching up. People were generally excited. I didn’t hear one complaint about the length of the line. I think people in my neighborhood felt proud today, felt good about themselves. That’s a wonderful thing to be a part of. It was a phenomenally positive energy.
