Dearest Rachel –
You and Daniel would, on more than one occasion, give me grief about the fact that, compared to the two of you (which just shows that you raised him right, I suppose), I was – and still am – a pessimist and a cynic. When it came to events in the wider world, I was more than likely to expect the worst of it, to doubt any news that seemed too good to be true, and to mistrust any authority figure and their motives. I still remember a Christmas present (from our last such holiday, so it sticks in my mind that much more so – although ironically, I can’t for the life of me recall what was in the package) that you literally labeled “to the family pessimist; from your optimistic family.” That led my dad to grill me for a bit about why you would refer to me as such, and I had to explain the current event that led to you doing so (I think it had to do with a certain world figure supposedly being arrested, which I denied happening; I was right, though, and the individual is free to rule to this day, I should point out).
I’d like to think that your opinion of my in this regard was exaggerated for comic effect. For what it’s worth, while I’m by no means a believer in Rousseau’s thought that humanity is basically good, I tend to think that everyone acts in a manner that benefits someone, even if it’s only themselves. I literally cannot grasp evil for evil’s sake; I even have difficulty comprehending power for power’s sake (although that’s because I subscribe to what I call the Spiderman Doctrine, and personally cannot understand the desire for that level of responsibility). Sure, if one ignores those responsibilities, and just uses that power to make money or enjoy the perks of the office, that makes a certain evil sense, but it’s not pure evil. And even those that we think of as being “pure evil” – or as close to it as possible – probably didn’t think of themselves as such; they might very well have had motives that they considered to be noble, even if they might have acknowledged the barbarity of their methods in reaching their desired ends.
But let’s face it, honey; how could I not grow up cynical and pessimistic? I’ve lived all my life within spitting distance of Chicago, and the place has always managed to live up to (or would that be ‘down to’?) expectorations. This is the city that coined the phrase “vote early and vote often”; the land of Al Capone and Leroy Brown. Ours is a state where, for the entirety of our lives, it’s been a fifty-fifty shot that our sitting governor would end up in jail. How could one not grow up to be more like Voltaire than Rousseau?
This is borne out by the fact that, for the last couple of election cycles, when Daniel and I have gotten our voter cards in the mail (presumably so that we can request to vote by mail), you have been getting one, too. When we’ve gone in on Election Day to cast our ballot, I have asked about this, and how to get you removed from the rolls, but clearly, nothing has been done about it. To be sure, as far as I know, this hasn’t meant that anyone has cast a ballot in your name, but as long as you keep getting this information sent to you, I do know that your name is still out there as an eligible voter, and there’s a non-zero chance of someone being able (and willing) to make use of this fact.
If anyone is going to bring you back in order to cast a ballot for one candidate or another, though – especially if it’s for someone who you probably wouldn’t have voted for in life – the least they could do is let me know, and allow me to spend the rest of the day with you as recompense to the both of us. Failing the ability to do that, I would like to ensure that this sort of electoral necromancy can’t be performed on you going forward.
To that end – and especially since our voting station is actually at the nearby county courthouse – I’m bringing your death certificate with me. Once Daniel and I cast our votes (and yes, we’re doing the “vote early” part of the local admonition, just in case anything comes up on Election Day that might pose a problem. It’s not as likely in a state that isn’t considered to be a battleground, but you never know – and you already know what I think about our authorities in this department)
Look, honey, I don’t want to make a scene about this, but after four straight times (including both primaries and general elections), I’m a little tired of this – and suspicious as to why it’s so difficult for you to be taken off. A slightly more cynical man might think they would want you to be considered eligible forever… and while I’d have liked you to be around to vote for whoever you chose (at worst, you’d only cancel out my vote), if I can’t have you around, I don’t want some candidate to have you either. Besides, anyone who would make something of your ballot, by definition, isn’t the sort of person worth voting for in the first place. It’s a pity I have to think we so many such candidates here, though.
In any event, as Daniel and I are walking to the courthouse to get all this taken care of (and on past the place for lunch, at his suggestion), I hope you’ll be willing to keep an eye on us, and wish us luck. We’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 