It’s almost election day, and my mouth has already begun to water.
Like you, I believe it’s our patriotic duty to vote in this and every election. And like you, I have my definite opinions on how my ballot will be cast. I will keep that to myself, as you’ve heard enough people telling you how they will vote, and why you should do likewise.
You vote as you want, I will do the same.
But after we’ve all voted, I suggest we join together at one of the many dinners being hosted in the area on Election Day.
I’ve done this for years, and the food is always top-notch. I’ve never met an Election Day dinner I didn’t like.
Like Pavlov’s dog, I begin to drool when I leave the election booth. I’ve spent election days eating everything from baked steak to spaghetti to pancakes. Trust me, it all goes down good with voting.
For a few years, I helped out at such a dinner. Truth be told, I wasn’t much help. Greater truth be told, it was hard work and really killed my love for the Election Day dinner. I can ruin a dinner at home, I don’t need to take my kitchen skills out in public.
One year, I ate all three meals at Election Day gatherings.
I said I was doing it as research for a story. I wasn’t. I was doing it because I love it.
That year, I started my Election Day at a church that was serving as my polling location. In a separate room from the voting booths, they had doughnuts. At first I was just going to browse, but then I saw some cream-filled numbers with chocolate icing. And the coffee was hot.
Do I really need to connect the dots for you?
At lunch, I found some homemade soups at another place. They had chili, which I don’t like, and vegetable soup, which I do. The ladies working the counter gave an ample helping, but not so much that I couldn’t grab the shredded chicken sandwich that had been calling my name from a nearby platter. Again, the coffee was hot, so I got a second cup for the road.
Dinner that evening was baked steak from my church. It was served with hot mashed potatoes loaded with gravy. To the side was a warm dinner roll. All my favorites. There was also a spoonful of green beans sitting off to the side just to make me feel healthy, but I never touched those veggies.
Everything was washed down with some of the sweetest apple pie I’ve ever tasted. And a hot cup of coffee. And then a refill of the hot cup of coffee because the apple pie was really sweet.
When I got home that night, I felt pretty full in a happy and contented sort of way.
You see, after all of the political talks that year, and the shouting, and the accusations, it was nice to sit with friends and not talk politics.
Sure, there were people sitting around the tables in each of my meals that probably didn’t vote as I voted. Thankfully, none of us discussed that. We laughed, we talked and we ate.
We did the normal things we do in the years there are not elections. We found a way to share our lives, and realized that even though we may not always agree, we’re there for each other regardless of the election outcome. And, we realized that more unites us than separates us.
And one more great thing about the election dinners?
The year I ate all three meals out on Election Day, I had enough coffee in my system to stay awake all night and watch the results come in.
I couldn’t tell you whether most of my candidates won or lost that year. But, as I just proved, I can tell you everything I ate.
Voting is my patriotic duty. Eating is my pleasure.
