Benjamin R. Freed

Hmm, it’s been a while since I visited this website that I pay money for. Oh, well. I put this on the Tumblr, but it serves just as much purpose here.

My Twitter joking aside, I feel I’ve been largely silent during this presidential campaign. Considering my direct role in the last election, and my observatory role in today’s, it seems appropriate to un-mute myself. Take this as an endorsement, a missive, a steaming pile of shit, or whatever you want to call it. This is my campaign plank:

1. Yes, you should have voted today, and yes, I care who you voted for.
2. I cared a lot more about who you voted for last time—spoiler alert, I played for the winning team—but I would still place my level of caring this time around at a reasonably high level.
3. My mom, stepfather, and sister live in North Carolina, which is still considered a battleground by many observers, though it’s a bit of a stretch that it will remain in Barack Obama’s column. My mom and stepfather voted early a few weeks ago, she voted for Obama; he voted for Mitt Romney, though he voted for Obama in 2008. Don’t hate on my stepfather. He’s a good person, but he is also an impatient sixty-four-year-old who’s more concerned about his Social Security payments today than mine fifty years from now.
4. My sister dropped out of college for a couple years. She’s back in school this semester, and she also works a few dozen hours a week waiting tables and tending bar. The other night, some asshole left her a $3 tip on a $55 check. Bad tippers come in all political stripes, but something about a 24-year-old woman being treated this cheaply gives me even more nausea about Romney’s outlook on people. Earlier today, my sister sent me a graphic contrasting Obama and Romney along the lines of characters in Mean Girls. (Obama thinks women’s rights are “grool”; Romney pushed Regina George in front of that bus; and so forth.) I LOLed. My sister also didn’t have time to vote early. Early-voting lines in Charlotte, N.C. were four hours long, and my sister did not have that kind of window  to spare. She is registered to vote, but at home, halfway across the state. Driving home this morning was not an option.
5. I spent about 45 minutes on the phone last night dialing through Obama field offices in North Carolina as organizers made their final preparations for Election Day. I finally reached some kid in Wilmington; he sounded about twenty years old, but he knew the rules well enough to inform me that my sister is out of luck. I called my sister back and told her the news. Best-case scenario? She goes to a campaign office today and spends a few hours banging on the phones persuading people to vote. My sister won’t vote today, but maybe she can balance out the karma.
6. Four years ago, I sat in an office tower in Philadelphia hammering out press releases, talking points, and pre-approved one-liners that the Governor of Pennsylvania usually rejected. I was nearly broke most of the year.
7. This year, I’ll be kinda sorta covering this Election Day for the news website I run, sorting through press releases, talking points, and pre-approved one-liners shot off by the Governors of Maryland and Virginia. I’ve been nearly broke most of the year. Sides of the fence change; my financial outlook remains constant.
8. If there’s anyone who’s boundless enthusiasm for voting amazes me now, it’s my editor’s, whose is deeply passionate about expanding voting rights that he, as a citizen of another country, cannot enjoy himself. He’ll be spending the late hours of Election Day waiting for returns of local races at the District of Columbia’s elections board, a throwback to the very old days—pre-telegraph, even—when candidates communed at government offices waiting for the final tally. My editor knows all this information is distributed electronically, but he persists in wanting to hear it from the officials’ mouths.
9. When the polls begin to close tonight, I’ll be monitoring Associated Press wire stories and cable television coverage in the service of a live-blog for my company. Does my company have anything to add to the presidential narrative? Do I? Hardly. But I do it because that’s what’s expected of me, I suppose. Someone needs to handle the craven, over-chewed bits of life. My editor’s role is much more noble.
10. The last time I voted in a presidential election, I cast my ballot in a swing state because I worked in a swing state. This time, I’ll be casting it in the least unpredictable jurisdiction in the country. (When it comes to electing presidents, at least.) In the past four years, my admiration for the President has blurred. Credit the trend to soft policy negotiations, brutal anti-drug policies, drone strikes, limited transparency, and whatever other shortcomings this Administration has committed.
11. But yeah, I’ll be voting for the President again.
12. No, I did not turn this blog over to Dave Stroup. It’s really me, people.