Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Posted by The Dean of Cincinnati
This rainy Tuesday morning in Kennedy Heights, I woke up to participate in the Democratic process. Unfortunately, when I arrived, I discovered that no one was exactly sure how to use the new process—and further the technology was not working properly. And, I discovered that, in America, the Vote is no longer anonymous—because when the optical scan machine doesn’t read your ballot properly, you must submit it in an envelope which includes identifying information. Another election day in the free world!
First, the elderly woman working the poll was having trouble tearing the two-paged ballot precisely along the perforation. Her rips were a little rough. No one really thought anything of it at the time, but turns out those imprecise rips along the perforation could be all it took to ruin the chances of several ballots from being counted this morning.
(On a side-note, we wouldn’t need to rely on mostly retired people to run the polls if Election Day was a holiday, like it should be.)
Here was the procedure: I showed my ID, signed my name, had my name checked off another list, had my ballot number recorded, and then was directed to the booth. I spent time filling out my ballot—Fitrakis for Governor, Kettler for Secretary of State—and then stepped to the Optical Scanning Machine.
I inserted my ballot, and it was kicked back out as unreadable.
I tried again.
The leading poll volunteer came over. She wanted me to make sure I had only voted for one candidate per race. I showed her my ballot, saying I didn’t mind if she saw my votes—just so she could know with certainty that I know how to fill in bubbles.
I tried again. Nothing.
Another woman came over. She actually suggested that perhaps my ballot was not being accepted because I failed to vote in all the races. I quickly clarified—no one can force someone to vote in a race if neither candidate is any good.
So I stepped to the side and we tried the woman behind me. Same story. The woman behind her? Same story. The woman behind her? Page one got accepted! But page two did not. Now a new emergency: what to do when only one page gets sucked into the machine?
By now, three poll volunteers were gathered around the growing line of people whose ballots would not go into the machine. Someone remembered the envelopes for ballots that won’t get accepted. The woman who had only one page rejected went first. The enveloped asked for the computerized error code, but no one was exactly sure, since the screen had already reset.
I looked closely, and realized that the ballot had about eight bar codes on it—one in each corner, on each side. Due to the roughly torn edges I mentioned before, one of the bar codes in one of the corners on one side had a bar slightly torn through it. I asked if I could see the ballots of the others waiting around me. Looks like we found the culprit! The elderly lady not able to tear in a perfectly straight line was perverting our Democracy!
I got my envelope, folded my ballot, and gave it back to the volunteer. She proceeded to go to the registry to get my ballot number—which is listed on the sheet where I signed my name—so she could write the number on the front of the envelope. “Now everyone can know who I voted for?” I asked. She laughed. It’s not like I could have expected an answer. So much for the power of the anonymous vote! If the recorded ballot number next to my name did not match the bar-codes should someone wish to find out for whom I voted, surely the ballot number next to my name and on my envelope would seal the deal!
This evening, at the Board of Elections, I will be looking for them to be manually opening all those envelopes and counting, by hand, my votes and my neighbors’ votes before announcing the winners.
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