Election Day in Our Town, America

Today is Election Day, the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November, as NPR informs me. I happen to be registered to vote here in this town where I was born, the "City of Village Charm". Mom and I walked up the hill to Buckley School, the road I walked when I was a grammar student there twenty years ago. How very suitable and small-town that seems. It is a pleasant walk, though I find there is rather a lot of traffic these days, even in the once-quiet section bordering the town of Rockville. The school wasn't too busy at half past one, and there were no students around. We spotted a neighbor examining a sample ballot posted in the entry hall as we did the same.
Voting in Manchester is accomplished through the use of those old, massive, half-curtained machines they have had ever since I followed my mother to the polls as a child. In the midst of rumor and controversy concerning the purity of the polling mechanism, I have no idea whether these machines record my vote accurately. These senior citizens who competently carry out the poll are so terribly trustable; they are a far cry from those evil, vote-rigging partisans who seem to skulk round other polling places.
No Presidential choice this year, though, of course, political analyses find connections from the sitting President to many elections on the ballot. Joe Lieberman, the incumbent U.S. Senator whose seat is at issue this year, is a famous exemplar. He has been associated in the minds of indignant Democrats with President Bush. Lieberman has shed his party affiliation after losing the Democratic primary. Even if he returns to Washington as an Independent, he will never caucus with the Democrats again (or join in any of their reindeer games). He can be found at the bottom of the ballot, the only name on the "Connecticut for Lieberman" row.
On the state level, Governor Jodi Rell is campaigning for re-election. She took over the seat when Governor Rowland was indicted on bribery charges a few years ago. She is very popular and is sure to keep her job. Mom concedes that she has done good work, and seems to be in tune with Mom's concerns about energy supplies in the state, but disagrees with her stance on an ethical misstep in her staff.
The only campaign sign Mom and Dad have stuck in their lawn supports State Representative Ryan Barry, a clean-cut young lawyer who grew up on East Center Street. He is married with two children, and his family attends their church, St. Bridget's. There's that old, small-town feeling again.
This year, Manchester is considering a referendum to purchase the southern half of the Manchester Parkade for the town. It is suggested that the 20-acre parcel could become a park, possibly with a community center, library, pool, etc. What an interesting idea.
As we left the gymnasium where the voting was taking place, we met the sitting Probate Judge and his family. Mom pretended, of course, that I remembered them (she still believes Manchester is the small town she grew up in). We finally completed the ceremony of the day by toddling home in the warmth of a late autumn day, crunching maple leaves all the way down the deserted sidewalk.
Today we completed the fundamental responsibility of an American citizen. The word "responsibility" implies a heavy, unloved chore. But responsibility, in citizenry as in personal life, carries the sweetness of a conscious life.