My View From the cheap seats

Election Day is coming up in Georgia, which means I will do my civic duty, put on a reasonably clean shirt, and go vote with the enthusiasm normally reserved for a root canal you’ve already paid for.

I will vote. I always do. I’ve voted in the rain, in the heat, and once while running a fever that made Abraham Lincoln look downright athletic. I’ve voted every time the polls have opened since I was 18 and idealistic, convinced democracy was a noble, humming machine that just needed good people and honest intentions to keep it running.

Now I’m older, and democracy still hums, but it rattles a bit and makes a noise like something important is loose under the hood.

This year, like the last few, it’s harder to get excited. That’s because I’m tired — bone tired — of voting for the “lesser of whatever.” Not the better idea. Not the best person. Just the one who seems least likely to break something expensive or set fire to the curtains.

That is not how this is supposed to work.

Somewhere along the way, we replaced leadership with professional wrestling. Politics is no longer about solving problems. It’s about destroying the other side before they destroy you, preferably with a sound bite short enough to fit on a bumper sticker and mean enough to ruin Thanksgiving.

Politicians don’t run for things anymore. They run against things. Or more accurately, against people. Their entire platform can be summed up as: “The other guy kicks puppies, hates babies, and is deeply suspicious of apple pie.” This is usually delivered with great sincerity and a flag in the background.

And because they’re so busy telling us how awful the other side is, nothing gets done. Roads crumble. Prices rise. Common sense packs up and moves out of state. Everybody just keeps pointing fingers like it’s an Olympic event.

What we have now is a system where compromise is weakness, listening is betrayal, and changing your mind is considered a moral failure instead of evidence you learned something.

I am sick of it. And if I’m honest, I’m a little sick of us.

We reward outrage. We share the most ridiculous things because they confirm what we already believe. We boo instead of think. We cheer instead of listen. We demand absolute loyalty to a party label, as if the Founding Fathers carved “Republican” and “Democrat” onto stone tablets right after inventing America.

Here’s what I want, and I don’t think it’s radical.

I want a few statesmen. Or stateswomen. I’m open-minded and flexible on this point.

I want people who actually want to make life better, not contort me into a convenient little box so they know exactly which slogans to yell at me. I want someone who can say, “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out,” without being chased out of town by their own supporters.

I don’t need saints. I don’t need heroes. I just need adults.

So yes, I plan to vote next week. I’ll stand in line, cast my ballot, and hope again that this time we might get it right.

But even before Primary Day arrives, it feels like the real election we keep losing isn’t red versus blue.

It’s truth versus nonsense. Solutions versus shouting. Country versus ego. And until we decide we’re tired enough to demand better, we’ll keep heading to the polls, voting for the “lesser of whatever.” And wondering why it never feels like a win.