Admit that the waters around you have grown

Four years ago, I woke up to a rainy morning and dutifully headed down into the dank basement of a New York City public school. I pulled the handle that voted Kerry for President, and left all other categories blank.

Eight years ago, I did not vote at all. New to, and still overwhelmed by all the changes I'd had to face in moving to Manhattan, I had never bothered to register as a New York voter. I didn't particularly care for either candidate, anyway. But I sat up til after midnight that night with my roommate Kristin, a staunch Republican, watching the news until it was clear there WAS no news. Neither of us went to bed particularly happy.

Twelve years ago, I sent in an absentee ballot from my sorority house in Syracuse; the only category checked off was for Clinton. I didn't know, and didn't care, about anything else. At 20 years old, the only measure I could possible see affecting my life was a woman's right to choose, and therefore, I voted blue. That's pretty much been my mantra ever since.

This year has been completely different. For one thing, as someone whose adult (over 18) life has spanned two Presidents, one terrorist attack, and the rise and fall of an economy, this is the first time I can really objectively look back and recognize how leaders have affected our country. It's also the first time I've been educated enough about my own finances and economics-at-large to comprehend how political policy may affect my future. And it is also the first time that I've had friends who need the government to guarantee their equal rights - no longer just the basis for a series of annoying ads, at some point, these propositions have become quite personal.

But there's something else.

Much has been said about the way we consume news these days. No longer are we all reading the morning paper, watching the nightly news, and pussy-footing around political talk at the water cooler. Me and my friends are reading news all day, refreshing for hourly updates; seeing dozens of Facebook statuses announcing their allegiance; getting lost in the hundreds of links that are posted online - sharing and swapping news so quickly, the election has become more gossip-worthy than anything on Page Six. It's virtually impossible to NOT get caught up in it, no matter who you like or what you believe.

I arrived at my polling station just before it opened at 7:30 this morning. I darted into Starbucks first, and was thrilled to get free coffee - I figured that was only good AFTER voting! Then I waited in line for just over two hours in the hot morning sun, basking in the glow of the day.

Behind me stood a very chatty woman. Chatty McChatterson would talk to anyone who was listening. Talk talk talk talk, and let's talk some more. She was very friendly, and perhaps just had too many free coffees, but it was too early for me to start engaging with strangers.

Instead, I focused on the line ahead of me. And, there, standing two people away, was the homeless guy I've seen almost every day since moving into the neighborhood three years ago. I've always assumed he was homeless, anyway. He hangs out by the Starbucks, walks around the block, and never begs, only asks, politely, for change. And here he was, dressed in his usual dirty jeans and jacket, sample ballot in hand. Perplexed, I spent my time wondering where it possibly could have been mailed to.

I also couldn't help but marvel that this homeless (or homeless looking) man seemingly has enough faith in our collective futures to spend his morning making a difference.

Not that, this morning, he was any different from us. There we all were, standing outside of Starbucks, asking for change.