The Price of Eggs
Where to begin. Why to begin. I waited in line to vote yesterday, not once but twice. The weather was as perfect as California can offer. Clear sky and seventy-five. Walking to the senior center to cast my vote, I called my mom to chat, as I always do while walking. She’s still recovering from pneumonia, while taking care of Joe, who is recovering from knee replacement surgery. All was well for the most part. It always makes the walks go faster. The line was longer than I expected. Walking home to get my mail-in ballot, filling it out, and walking back to drop it off would’ve been quicker than waiting in line. But I wanted to be there to cast my vote. To do it on a machine. I wanted it to count more. As if the mail-in ballots counted less. Something feels different about waiting in line, in person. More meaningful, because more time went into it. More corporeal, standing next to strangers for so long. Hearing their conversations, catching whiffs of unfamiliar yet fa...