Where were you, bubba?

Opoe taught all off us that breakfast is, or should be, the most important meal of the day. In my case, an unlimited supply of strong, shade grown, organic and fair trade coffee, fortified with whatever substance that's available, kosher bacon and free range eggs, hash browns, multi grain toast, natural yogurt, several newspapers, CNN on the tube and a handsome little tune by Dylan to welcome a brand new day. Party time in BC., for the liberal party that is. Yes, the dark Lord has prevailed and his gang gets another 4 years to run amok and cram another bunch of whoop-ass directives down our throats. Don't forget, dear citizens, this is the worst recession since a million Okies took to the road to terrorize the fine folks in California.
Election time in BC, what an absolute bummer.
I got it over with right after breakfast. The church has been transformed and is now the place to be. Locals with nothing better to do patrol the sidewalk and are now "election officials". Jackboots are optional. "Can I see some ID, sir", don't block the entrance!, do you live in this neighbourhood? Upon my arrival I presented my credentials to the girl that handled my interrogation. To my surprise and without any apparent reason she approached me with extreme caution while smiling nervously, babbling about things that made no sense at all. Her mouth was moving at an alarming speed but the ear/brain thing refused to kick in. Until that moment I was certain that I was on top of things when all of a sudden I felt an ugly but familiar shiver running down my spine. From feeling extremely sharp and refreshingly upbeat I felt myself settling into a darker, cynical frame of mind. Breakfast had been uneventful, the walk, tranquil but now I was given the third degree by some dingbat that was obviously experiencing some sort of emotional breakdown. Fortunately I had brought a bottle along to keep Mr. Hide in his place and out of the picture. A quick refill and, hot damn, nothing says good morning like a generous helping of a fine Scotch on a clear, crisp day . I felt that the best way to move this thing along was to ignore her and present myself to one of the other election associates. Mumbling something about having to use the facilities I managed to slip through the door, turned left and entered the sanctuary. Most pews had been pushed aside unceremoniously and replaced with large plywood tables in various shapes and sizes, ikea chairs and a handfull of voting booths constructed from leftover cardboard boxes. Allthough I noticed several "officials" milling about an eerie silence accompanied the proceedings, only to be broken by the soft, melodious tinkling of tiny ice cubes gently floating in a coffee mug the size of a giant Slurpee. The menacing presence of a huge cross dangling in the far corner, a cherished relic to many of my fellow citizens, oddly enough provided some comfort and allowed me to re-focus. In his day, Jesus was a serious political junkie, eloquent but brutally critical of the authorities. His call for deeper understanding, a just society and a serene place to settle with Mary and the rest of his posse did not quiet work out the way he imagined. They nailed him up and made sure that everyone knew that it was "Gods will". Two thousand years of every imaginable atrocity has been committed in the name of this poor bugger by virtually every form of government known to man, or woman, and even now they still evoke his name when things get a bit dicey.
"Just stay cool, head straight for one of the tables, grab a form, dive into a voting booth and perform my civic duty" was the best I could come up with. However it all went downhill from there and the whole thing just turned into a hideous nightmare of vicious mayhem, obscene screeching and wild accusations. The hellish noise from the alarm system when I made a quick dash for one of the emergency exits seemed to be a fitting farewell.

Another fateful day, fodder for our provincial historians.
Election coverage results and analysis started at 8. At 1 minute past we all knew that Campbell was once again top dog. Some of the "best"political panels in the land tried to give it a positive spin, defending yesterdays wisdom that it would be a close call. Even the wino's at the pub got tired of the bullshit and started demanding change NOW. We had a vote and and it was unanimously decided that the hockey game was the better way to go. Democracy in action. Thank god for small favors.