Election Day…

So, today is yet another provincial election in la Nouvelle-Ecosse.

[Why do I drop in random French words? Who do I think I’m fooling? I had cute blonde french girlfriends do all of my french homework in high school.]

The oxymoronic Progressive Conservatives are currently in power, but, hopefully not for long. And I know that it is bad form to discuss religion or politics with folks, but this is my blog, suckas, so deal.

The poll opened at 8:00 am, and by 8:30 I was turning into the parking lot. I realllllllly enjoy voting Liberal. I just do. And after I cast my vote, I once again felt that familiar buzz of striking a blow for good over evil.

As I drove out of the parking lot, I noticed the “service engine soon” light on in the truck. I assume that the PC party is somehow involved.

I should mention that the Liberal candidate that I voted for today is a very good friend and a college roommate of mine. So, I know where the bodies are buried. I may have even tossed a couple shovels full of dirt myself. I kid. He’s never done anything wrong in his life… except for the stories that will show up in my tell-all biography on him. Shhhhhhh.

Beyond this, voting Liberal is hardwired into my DNA. It’s right in there with freakish height and lack of patience.

As I walk up to each ballot box, I can hear the shuffling of past generations getting ready to roll over in their graves if I make the “wrong” decision.

Not that I actually COULD vote for another party. If, say, Hitler was running for the Liberals in my riding, I’d just refuse to vote. Not that we’d nominate Hitler or anything. (The NDP might. I’m just sayin’.)

My grandparents were hardcore Liberals. My grandfather even let the Liberals use his house as their headquarters during an election. Or two maybe. (Which turned out to be where I met a super cute blonde french girlfriend.)

My grandfather’s brother was even harder corer. He’d be willing to throw-down in the parkinglot of a polling station if someone said the wrong thing to him. He’d also get drunk, throw his fridge out of his house, and the next day need 4 people to help him bring it back in.

Back in the day, bottles of liquor were a staple of elections around these parts. Someone would pick you up, drive you to vote, then give you a pint of rum. But this, sadly like party patronage, faded. My grandfather’s brother once made me go to the liquor store for him to buy some pints of rum. I was 16 at the time. Did I mention the freakish height?

I did have a falling out with the Liberal party a decade and a half ago or so. They decided to vote out a fellow Cape Bretoner as the leader of the party. I was heartbrokeneded. I stood at the convention yelling “Nooooo!” and “Shaaaaaaame!” with a friend of mine.

As it turns out, that was the same friend that I voted for today.

Full circle, bitches. Full circle.

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  1. James Cooper says:

    Heh, good luck to your friend. Let us know when your shocking tell-all expose hits the stands. Not that I’ll know what you’re talking about, with me being from south of the border from you.

    I was considering sharing the frightening but true tale of my dad’s own conversion from fervent liberal to demonizing conservative — supposedly this often happens with age — but I think I’ll spare you the bloodletting, virgin sacrifice, and other gory details.

    Oh, and “harder corer”?

  2. Peter says:

    Re: “harder corer”

    James, I should have warned you that I reserve the right to make up words, or bastardize existing words.

    It will be clearly explained in the FAQ… which I reserve the right never to actually write.

  3. Anonymous says:

    Congratulations to your Liberal candidate for getting elected in your riding! (had to go look it up). The big picture hasn’t changed with the PC minority, still…merde. (throwing a little French in, myself)

    Now we’ll just sit back and wait for the tell-all…

    Colleen

  4. Peter says:

    Colleen: Yeah, my friend did win. But, it was close. eeeep.

    And the overall provincial results were of the poopy.

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