Something about voting makes me feel smug. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a little self-righteousness about doing my civic duty, or maybe it’s because I feel like cramming my vote into the cardboard ballot box officially gives me a license to bitch for the next four years whether or not I get my way (unlike those filthy non-voters who don’t get to complain because their inaction is tantamount to that of people who incessantly complain about their jobs, but get the gold watch for 25 years of “dedicated” service).  

Truth be told though, my smugness is completely unfounded. I’m not really all that politically engaged. My opinions on “the issues” and “the candidates” are really just pet peeves and personal digs about sweaters (Yeah, Gnocchi-face! I said sweater!) people’s facial hair (Layton, I’m looking at you, you used car salesman!). Sure, I read. I listen to other people talk about politics. I have opinions on some issues, like housing, poverty, same-sex marriage—the biggies. But as for actually making policy on it, I don’t know that I could do it. 

But then, I don’t know that anyone can. I mistrust anyone who actually thinks they’re able to do a good job in any part of being leader of a country other than fulfilling the big numero uno on any politician’s agenda: keeping the job once they’ve landed it. And if they’re not good at it to start, they’ll learn. Maybe it’s not the best criterion for judgment of a potential leader, and most voters don’t want to hear that the issues are complicated—they know they’re complicated—but to me, a little humility goes a long way. Don’t try to tell me you have all the answers. Because, well, I’m not a chump and I know you don’t. If you did, you’d have solved the problems already. For me the best thing a candidate can do is at least appear to be in touch with the people s/he wants on side. 

The earnest do-gooder in me would love to believe that this entire election exercise is not as contrived as it appears to be. I’d like to feel proud after making the trek to the ballot box. But I don’t. I feel cynical. I go and vote anyway, in full ironic knowledge that no matter who I vote for, I am always voting for what I hope will be the least of the evils. I feel smug, because those politicians can’t pull one over on me. I’m too busy pulling one over on myself.

Or perhaps I just like to bitch.