Mark and I went up to City Hall for early voting yesterday. It was kind of creepy knowing that there were Trump voters in the building with us. As liberal as our little city is, I'm sure there were at least a few. After all, the average age of Florida residents is around seventy years old, and they ain't voting for Hillary. I myself, voted for Bernie Sanders. There is just something comforting about an old Jewish guy explaining how things work in the world. Yes, he is kind of old, but he is "spry" for his age. I wish I were spry. I am not spry and I know that at eight years Bernie Sanders junior, I couldn't do half the crap he's been doing. Campaigning, debating Hillary, making Donald Trump look like a moron by simply opening his mouth and talking. Bernie is doing it all at seventy four. I on the other hand keep having old age shoved in my face at every turn. First it was the letter from Social Security last December, telling me that I was now officially, by order of the United States Government, retired. There was my doctor telling me that I had "the gout". But the most damning thing was when Mark and I stepped into City Hall to vote. I gave them my driver's license, they ran it through a machine that then spit out a long piece of paper, and then the nice lady held it up for me to read.
"Please check that all the information printed here is correct sir."
So I looked and yes, it was all correct. But there was one thing on there that caught me by surprise. **ASSISTANCE NEEDED** Right there in giant letters was the notation that I was so old and feeble that I needed assistance. All I can figure is that they put that into the system after the last election when I made a big stink in the polling place about the tiny print on the ballot, and the crappy lighting. I had to have Mark fill out my ballot for me. Goddamnit, probably just a matter of time before he's spooning me pudding and rolling me around in a wheelchair.