This weekend I sat in the comfort of my own home with my absent voter’s ballot. I’m a permanent absent voter because I hate standing in voting booth lines, and I like mailing in my choices. I can read over the propositions at my leisure, sip coffee, and make decisions. Then I got to the presidential candidates.
My fingers sped towards the checkbox. I already knew my choice. It was easy. I didn’t have to even think about it.
Then I stopped. I thought about the fact that the election is currently in a dead heat. According to the media, the “swing voters” will decide this election.
But how could that be? We’ve already had three debates and a deluge of press. The candidates are well defined. Their differences are clear. How could there be so many undecided voters? What do they know that I don’t?
I decided I shouldn’t be so hasty with my vote. After all, this is the President of the United States we’re talking about. It’s possible I’m not as well informed as I thought. I stepped outside to find a swing voter.
It was a gentle October morning in Oakland. The sun shone faintly and coldly, as it does in those weeks leading up to winter. I looked up and down the street--and saw a young girl at the end of the block. She had bright red hair, and looked about 18. I realized that it was Lindsay Lohan, teen star of the hit movie Mean Girls.
I approached her. “Hi,” I said. “You’re eighteen, right?”
She eyed me warily. “Don’t tell me you’re from one of those ‘countdown to my 18th birthday’ web sites.”
“No no, nothing like that.”
“Good. I don’t know what’s with those people. It’s like, yeah, I’m legal, and no, that fact isn’t gonna improve their ability to score by even a tiny little bit.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I’m looking to talk to a swing voter.”
“I don’t get it,” she said.
“Well, what do you think about Kerry?”
“Oh,” Lindsay said. “I think it was a scary movie. Although if someone dumped pig’s blood on me, I’d use my psychic powers to blow them away too.”
“Not that I want to remake Carrie,” she added hastily. “I’m sick of doing remakes, what with Parent Trap and Freaky Friday and my upcoming Herbie movie for Disney and all.”
“What about Bush?” I asked.
“If two people are in love, it’s nobody’s business but theirs,” Lindsay told me. “But personally, I like men.”
I scratched my head. “Look...okay, listen. What issues are important to you?”
“Oh, well, I’m sort of in this feud with Hilary Duff. See, I used to go out with Aaron Carter, but then she did, and she’s been telling all the reporters that I’m a bitch, but she’s actually the bitch, and basically it’s a thing between us. Actually, that’s where I’m going right now. I’m going to have it out with her once and for all. I expect there to be face slapping and stuff like that.”
“That’s pretty intense,” I said.
She shrugged. “That’s just how I feel.”
“Thanks for your time, Lindsay,” I said.
“Hey. No problem.”
I went back home and pondered the encounter. I was impressed with Lindsay’s enthusiasm and passion, even though it was clear that she was still undecided about the election. Which way would she vote? It was impossible to say.
But I felt much better about the notion that the fate of the country was up to the swing voters. Yes, if Lindsay was any indication, those undecideds will do right by us. America will be just fine.
I like Lindsay Lohan, especially after Mean Girls, but she makes me feel unclean for liking her. You forgot to mention that, though she may be eighteen, she has the body of a, well, a very well-equipped young woman.
Whereas, I never cottoned to Hilary Duff, but I feel bad about not liking such a wholesome young girl.
I think I’ll just stick to Sela Ward, thanks. Though don’t make me watch that damned disaster movie from this summer, and we’ll all get along just fine.
(Can you tell I voted for Nader in the last election?)
I’m not eighteen and I’m not undecided. And I’m not Lindsay Lohan (though I must admit I feel extremely fortunate not to have to deal with issues of the same magnitude as she does, ouch!). Does that help?
I, too, am no Lindsay Lohan. I have, on occasion been told that I have the body of a, well, a very well-equipped young woman.
Stick with me though, I am writing in Quayle again.
While reading fashion magazines during the “down time” at work (all eight hours of it) I noticed a photo Ms. Lohan donning t-shirts advocating “Hilton Lohan 2004.” Glad to see hollywood stepping into the political scene in effective and creative ways.
In other news. A quote from someone, somewhere who could be called an “expert” --"It’s a shame that the fate of our nation will be decided by the 6 million most indecisive people in the country.”
My vote has now been cast: I am for Dirty Dan Sin.
actually the undecideds are a sneaky lot. i should know. i’m one of them. and the truth is, i’m not really undecided. i’ve known all along, deep down, which little box i’d mark on my (also permanent absentee) ballot, but i like the feeling of them working right up until the last minute to woo me. i like that they can’t take me for granted just yet.
I’m worried that you know so much about Lindsay Lohan.
CLARIFICATION (because this is the New York Times, right?): When I said that I was “for Dirty Dan Sin,” above, I meant that in the same way that those aliens on Star Trek meant it. You know, “I am for Sulu,” “I am for Captain James Tiberius Kirk,” and so on. Or in the same way that Britney Spears is for the current president.
You know. That way.
What is it about this whole entry and its comments that reminds me of Dr. Strangelove? Oh, right, the mineshaft gap.
Oh, and the president of the USA was in Dr Strangelove too, right?
Can Mandy Moore play, too? ‘Cause she rocked in Saved.
J, are you afraid that someone will misconstrue your comment to mean that you support all activities of The Dan? Anybody knows better than that.
Dear The Dan: “Misconstrued” is in fact my middle name. Just ask Greg. Or anybody, really, for that matter.
I don’t know whether you two are getting along famously or bickering like girl scouts, but it still kind of gives me a kick to see a high school and graduate school bud exchanging surreal witticisms.
And so polite they are
Sorry, butting out…
So you didn’t once try to grab Lindsay Lohan’s breasts during this conversation?
I’m impressed. You really are an intellectual!
been enjoying that teen beat magazine greg?
disturbing.
As your “graduate school bud,” Greg, I hasten to point out that my figure is nowhere near as curvaceous as that of your “high school bud.” I have more, well, buds than actual, er, hooters. Which I imagine The Dan must have, given his earlier remarks.
And please, everyone, feel free to mock my rather hesitant writing style. It fills me with the glee.
(I suppose this means that, technically, The Dan and I are getting along like a pair of famous girl scouts, if that helps you out, Gregarious Old Chum.)