"Do I need to vote this time?" Katherine asked me.
Living in DC, it is a reasonable question. Not every election "matters" here. We have no representation in Congress, obviously. And in a place where 92% of voters cast ballots for Obama in 2008, the real fight is for the Democratic primary. From there, the general election is kind of a foregone conclusion. It does beg the obvious question--does it matter?
On Tuesday, I walked into my local polling place in a futile attempt to exercise my civil duty. In the process, I almost (and still may have) elected myself to public office.
After reviewing the ballot for a few minutes, I came to one of the few ballot issues that does matter in a DC general election: ANC Commissioner.
In DC, ANC Commissioners (ANC stands for Advisory Neighborhood Commission) are the ground level connection between government and the people. They are supposed to help citizens navigate city government and solve problems. Trash collection missed your street again this week? You call the ANC Commissioner to help straighten it out. Streetlights not working and no one has fixed it after three calls? Call the ANC Commissioner. Having trouble getting a permit for your Latvian Heritage Festival? You get the point.
Being an ANC Commissioner is tough, thankless work. The position is unpaid, carries little authority or power, and is almost never a stepping stone to bigger political office.
So I'm sure you, like me, are not surprised that there were no candidates listed on the ballot for my local ANC Commissioner. None. No one wanted the job. The only line on the ballot was for a write-in candidate.
In some areas of DC, running for ANC Commissioner is a big deal, involving actual campaigns with signs and volunteers and everything. But not in my neighborhood. In the few blocks that comprise my ANC district (and it is, literally, a few blocks--and half of my ANC is Rock Creek Cemetery, filled with several hundred DEAD residents), the ANC Commissioner election was more like conscription.
So I thought, "What the heck," and wrote in my own name.
In an ANC of our size, I believed it was theoretically possible to win with one vote. But then I thought, if I wanted to trump all my neighbors who also said "what the heck" and then wrote in their own names, I needed a second vote.
That's when I IM'd my wife.
"You need to write in my name for ANC Commissioner," I wrote.
Pause.
"What's an ANC Commissioner?" she replied.
I explained.
"And you want to be an ANC Commissioner?" she wrote.
"Of course not, but I want to win."
She was skeptical, but said she would think about it.
I started to get excited about the idea, and decided that Katherine might need some encouragement.
That's when I decided that what I needed to do was robocall my wife. After a few minutes online, I came up with my own robotic message to convince Katherine that she should write-in my name for ANC Commissioner.
(click to play)
After leaving that on her phone, I IM'd her again.
"Never in your life will your vote count for so much," I said.
"How's that?" she asked.
"It is, literally, the deciding factor in this election," I wrote. "Think about it this way. I already have one vote. There are probably a couple others who have one vote as well. But if I have two, I'm sure I'm in."
I kept at this line of logic for...awhile.
Eventually, I told her that when we got home tonight, we had to put on nice clothes and invite everyone we know to stand in our front yard.
"Why?" she asked, kinda bracing herself for the answer.
"For my victory speech."
I inquired about printing up some signs.
She did not reply.
At the end of the day, I got a text from her, saying she had just gotten home from voting. I asked if she voted for me.
"Yes, I wrote in your name for ANC Commissioner," she said.
I was estatic.
Throughout the night, I checked the DC election web site. After the unofficial results were posted, the only thing I learned was the total number of write-in votes in my ANC: 56.
56? I couldn't believe there were 56 voters in my ANC. I didn't think that everyone wrote themselves or their neighbor in. I even went as far as to call the Board of Elections and found out that write-in results won't be published for a few weeks.
The real irony of all this is that, because I work for a journalism organziation, I cannot accept the office. Technically, I'm not supposed to RUN for office, but I really didn't do anything except annoy my wife, which I do every day. I don't think there is an ethics code consideration for annoying a spouse.
But it would be cool to say I won an election.
We'll see.
