Put A Stamp On It

 

Utterly reckless.

Completely stupid.

What were you thinking?

Suffice it to say there were even more comments whose language would not be appropriate in this family forum. And these were from my friends.

You would think I was advocating a Bangkok brothel tour without condoms. And while I did touch something young, sleek, and thin, I feel the risk was highly overrated. Last week I put my absentee ballot in the mail.

Much has been said about mail-in balloting, and most of it poorly informed. My local congressional primary was the subject of intense scrutiny, sometimes making national news. It even got a quick mention during the first presidential debate, if you were able to hear above the din of either candidate. Some of the envelopes for returning absentee ballots were business reply mail which, as it turns out, doesn’t get postmarked. This wouldn’t be a problem if one of the key factors was making sure the envelope was postmarked by Election Day. Litigation ensued and a wise judge allowed the ballots to be counted as long as they were in by the final prescribed day after the primary.

Problem solved, right? Wrong.

Turns out the biggest problem with ballots that were disqualified was that the voters did not sign the internal return envelope. That’s right, people couldn’t follow directions.

There was universal hemming and hawing, but nobody should have been surprised. The areas from where the challenger was strongest had a younger demographic, a group that may never have mailed a bill payment in their life. They wouldn’t know to read the instructions because they are so used to swiping and tapping. The incumbent’s base skewed older and probably to this day writes their account numbers on their checks before carefully sealing the payment envelope and gently placing it in the mailbox. Even if all the challenger’s votes had counted, it probably would not have been enough, but it’s a lesson I’m not sure the rest of the nation fully understands.

So was I scared of COVID at my polling place? Hardly. I may very well be out of town on Election Day and am scrupulous about keeping a perfect voting record. The top line is no contest in New York, but there is a very competitive local assembly race that could be decided by just a few votes. Plus who am I to pass on an opportunity to avoid having the government waste my time?

New York only recently discarded its Eisenhower-era pull lever voting machines with bubble scanners. The problem isn’t the new technology but the fact the poll workers probably voted in an Eisenhower election. So when the scanners go down, there isn’t a lot of expertise to fix the problem. It wouldn’t be so bad because any 12 year-old could reboot the system in a couple of minutes, but since 12 year-olds can’t vote, there aren’t many around to help. What should be a quick exercise goes on for hours.

So I began my absentee journey online, in a fit of surprisingly easy clicks that let me apply for a ballot. A few days later the paper arrived and I filled it in and made sure I signed the internal envelope. The one with the big, bold box on it that says “You must sign here.” The one that is easy to read and follow its directions. I could follow all the steps of my ballot’s journey on the Board of Elections’ website, from application, to ballot mailing, to when the Post Office got my returned ballot, to when the Board of Elections received it. There was more detail than an Amazon delivery, which could be an interesting idea for next year—order your overpriced, organic apples from Whole Foods and Jeff Bezos will deliver your absentee ballot as well.

There was one, old-fashion thing I did before putting my ballot in the mail. Pulling out my hyper-accurate kitchen scale, I weighed the envelope. The reading came in at exactly one ounce, only one stamp needed. But then I thought long and hard, and put on a second stamp in case something was slightly off and it all went wrong. What in the world would my friends say then?

© 2020 Alexander W. Stephens, All Rights Reserved.

The Covid-in-Chief

 

“America—The Reality Show” got off to a terrific start last week. In Florida, video showed a bearded man, shirtless and holding a beer in the midday sun, getting tackled to the ground by a police officer. The TV networks, bereft of original programming, broadcast two men in their ‘70’s yelling at each other, leading to the instantly meme-worthy outcry, “Would you shut up, man!” None of this would be of any interest if the characters weren’t so important. The first was a former Trump campaign manager who, in all seriousness, is now receiving some much-needed professional therapy. The latter were not Statler and Waldorf from the Muppet show but the President of the United States and the former Vice President of the United States in a campaign debate. Only the wildest of creative writers could wish for an even more improbable way to top all of this: the President caught the Covid bug. But like many things, be careful what you wish for because it might come true.

For some, Trump’s Covid proved how wildly reckless he has been at protecting his mask-less health. Others will see it as vindication as to how random the virus can be contracted, given that it took some six months for him to get sick under the “reckless” circumstances. Employing unintentional humor, left-leaning conspiracists put forth that the whole thing was a hoax so that the President would get…sympathy (a word heretofore unassociated with this administration). Take your pick.

Being President, and especially campaigning for the job, is an exhausting endeavor. You crisscross the country, seemingly fitting 30 hours into a 24 hour day. You are traveling in planes whose air is, literally, desert dry. You swing from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin to the heat of Florida in a single day, day after day. Four years ago Hilary Clinton was felled by a few fainting spells and candidate Trump suffered from what was obviously a head cold during one debate, sniffling through his answers. The Clinton camp put forth that their woman suffered from “dehydration” while the media immediately accused Trump of having a raging cocaine habit. All I know is that if a presidential candidate doesn’t get sick along the way I would be suspicious. Are they even trying?

Nobody approached traveling across the world as full-contact competition more than Bush 41. His global itineraries pushed those half his age to exhaustion while he seemed to be wound up every morning, ready for more. This all caught up to him during one whirlwind tour of Asia while at a dinner in Japan. Something went gastrically wrong and the President dive bombed a perfectly accurate vomit stream into the Prime Minister’s lap. Clearly Bush 41 needed medical attention, and the protocols in place kicked in. Apologies were made, late-night comics got some free material, and somewhere I’m sure Vice President Quayle got a call that the boss was under the weather. What I don’t recall was seeing a single line of copy blaring “Governing Crisis,” “Continuity of Government,” “Fresh Upheaval,” “Transition of Power,” or “Greatest threat to Presidential health since the Reagan assassination attempt.” I didn’t see it back then because it wasn’t true, and it isn’t true now, despite each of these quotes appearing in just in one CNN article on Friday.

Make no mistake, the President’s Covid case is of great concern. His age and weight put him in higher-risk categories, and sending him to Walter Reed hospital was a prudent move. Yes, there has been confusion about how ill Trump was on Friday, but then again he ambled across the White House South Lawn in no more or less of hurry than his other helicopter trips. No bullets had rung out, no mob of Secret Service agents diving around, no blood on his shirt. Trump’s voice was hoarse, he was running a slight fever, and he was run down. Under any other imaginable circumstance a President running for reelection might simply need to get some more sleep and cancel an event or two. Given the President’s prognosis, this is probably what is going to end up happening, albeit with more swabbing than the deck of a Navy ship.

So with four Tuesdays left until the election, where does this all leave us? Those in the know have seen Biden move away from his Rose Garden (or really, basement-in-Delaware) strategy and visit some battleground states, events with scattered supporters and a few campaign signs taped up in the background. Why? The President and Vice President Pence were, up until the weekend, ramping up their travels, with multiple rallies across different states every day. These may not be the 15,000-person extravaganzas of old, but 5,000 people outside an airport hangar a couple of times a day starts to add up. With all the accompanying local media coverage for each visit, it’s a potent weapon that the Democrats underestimated four years ago.

And with some rest and an otherwise clean bill of health, how will the President emerge? Trailing in tight races, he could go all out. His campaign organization knows how to put together events in record time and with Hollywood production values. The spending spigot will open and ads will flow freely. His followers, having survived this scare, may see it as a second chance to pull out an election victory. A man facing the final act of his political life will be focused and reenergized for the last month of his last campaign.

Many in this country, even around the world, may have wished for the President to get a taste of his own Covid medicine. My advice would have been to be much more careful what they wished for. As Japanese Admiral Yamamoto so famously observed about America after Pearl Harbor, “I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.”

© 2020 Alexander W. Stephens, All Rights Reserved.