Election Day

 I never put in any work for the Mikie Sherrill gubernatorial campaign here in New Jersey.  I never knocked on doors for her, did phone banks for her, or even stuffed envelopes for her, and I never even made the coffee at campaign headquarters.  All I did was vote for her.  Perhaps I should have joined the campaign, as it turns out she needed all of the help she could get.  It's appropriate that she, my congresswoman, is a lawyer by trade, because her campaign for governor of New Jersey has been as exciting as a deposition.  It's been the standard boilerplate campaign of Democratic issues and talking points, apparently based on the strategy that all the moderate Sherrill has to do is repeat the same Democratic bromides to look more progressive than she is in comparison to her MAGA Republican opponent.

But like I said, I was preoccupied with other things, most notably my life.  While the Sherrill campaign was gearing up over the summer for the autumn season, I was in Paris, Berlin and Munich on my first European trip ever.  When the Sherrill campaign got underway in earnest after Labor Day, I was walking through my neighborhood, going cycling once in awhile, and playing with my cats - but mostly taking care of my house.  And as it entered the home stretch, I continued removing burning bushes from the community park in my neighborhood and preparing the park for spring.  And now, with still more cuttings that need to be thrown out and collected this coming Thursday . . . there is the threat of a windstorm that could blow my garbage cans across town if I try to put the bush branches out that morning.  Among other things.

I hope Mikie Sherrill wins tonight.  But I've already been trying to condition myself to receive the news that her MAGA Republican opponent ekes out a victory.  And my sixtieth birthday is tomorrow.  Bummer . . . I took John Mellencamp's advice back in the day and tried to hold on to sixteen as long as I could, but I was only able to hold onto that age for a year.

And if our life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone, you must be in a terminal coma.

Right.  As Sherrill could lose her bid for the New Jersey governorship tonight and I could lose my electricity tomorrow night, I'd better be prepared for anything.   I'll be back later.