Pop Cramps: Vote Like Your Life Depends on It.

I started making t-shirts three years ago when I heard that people were making money on Amazon doing just that.

It was in the fall, so I started with Halloween and Christmas shirts and didn’t have much luck, but if you saw the designs you’d know why.

Like any industry, there are support groups and apps and advisors and podcasts galore available to the fledgling t-shirt entrepreneur. I took advantage of some of that, and eventually I started selling stuff, bit by bit. I was on Amazon and Etsy.

My favorite is this one: Vote Like Your Life Depends on It…. Because It Does. I made that one a year ago, already feeling the Trump terrors that we’re all now feeling.

I haven’t sold a ton of them, but I sold some. We’re talking enough money monthly to pay a couple of streaming service bills. Amazon is competitive and they’ve cut their payout rates more than once.

But I followed my own advice and voted the other day.

My state is a mail-in ballot state, but also has polling locations on election day. I had been checking every day for my ballot to come in the mail, and finally, on the fifth day after ballots were said to be sent out, it did come. When the ballot envelope came, I gingerly placed it on my dining room table where I could see it. I had to work up the strength to open it without damaging it, so I waited two days and kept food far away from it. On the third or fourth day, I slowly approached it and carefully opened it. I looked over all the materials and then waited another day, so that my mental faculties were sharp.

On my own personal voting day, I tested pens to see which had the best ink, placed cardboard under the ballot, re-read it three times and then slowly, methodically, filled in the circles next to my national and local candidates (our ballots do not have a simple party checkbox, so you have to fill each appropriate circle in. Phew. A lot of work!

Then I voted on the questions on the back of the ballot, where the “interpretations of a few of the questions where more confusing than the questions themselves.

I carefully placed the ballot into the privacy envelope. I slowly wrote my name, signed my name, filled in any other blanks (I don’t remember), then wet a paper towel to “lick” the envelope glue shut. It specifically says use a wet piece of paper or cloth. I did not want the tallying machines or the voting police to sense saliva DNA and have my ballot disqualified. I repeated this wetting ritual for the out envelope, tested the seal, and placed the finished package at the center of the table.

I then chose a cigar, picked up my envelope, got in my car, and drove the ballot to my local municipality’s voting collection box on their actual property, got out of my car, [laced the envelope in the slot and used my ears to hear it collide with other envelopes. I got back in the car, took a minute to watch the ballot box in case there were any vote-stealer lurking, then lit up my cigar, and drove home triumphantly.

After all, my life depended on it.

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