I was home with three kids in those baby boom days and the legitimate excuse to get out with adults was wonderful. We had to be there at 5 am – that’s how I found out Orion rises in the eastern sky in the fall – and didn’t quit till votes were tabulated and the metal boxes locked, often close to midnight. Both parties dropped off doughnuts and boxes of candy for the inspectors all day long. And I got to dash out to Howard Johnsons ALL BY MYSELF for supper.
Then years later -- in the 70s? 80?s -- my sister, who paid more attention to what was going on than I did, mailed a letter to the editor of our local daily. This year, she wrote, there wasn’t anyone worth voting for and one might as well stay home.
It took two days for Our Party’s local committee to phone and fire her. An hour later, I got the same phone call. My services were no longer required. A clear case of Guilt by Association.They’d made a big mistake, of course, firing someone who’d already demonstrated that she liked writing Letters to the Editor.
Because she promptly wrote another one.