The good old days - and ways - of voting
By CHASE SQUIRES, St. Petersburg Times Staff Writer
Published August 29, 2004

Used to be, we had what was called "election day." That was a day when people went to their polling places and voted. In college, the guys at my school even got the day off so that they could travel to their hometowns and consume heroic volumes of beer with their friends . . . and, uh, vote.

That was a fun time. A real "election day." An event.

Sometimes, there was even suspense. By golly, there might even be a last-minute twist, a political bombshell (called a "brown cow" in political consultant jargon, really) that could shift an election at the last minute.

Here's the funny thing: This Tuesday is an "election day" across Florida. It's a primary, in case you haven't seen the ads or been buried under direct mail. The kick is, I've already voted. Took care of that last week. So politicians can continue to try to sway me, they can keep buying advertisements, keep hitting me with mail, keep aiming barbs at one another, and it won't matter.

I've already voted.

I could find out tomorrow that the candidate I voted for is a lascivious rascal (actually, I'm kind of counting on that), and it wouldn't make a bit of difference. Because I've already voted.

A politician could mail me hundreds of dollars in cash, begging for my vote (note to politicians: I DO NOT OPPOSE THIS TACTIC), but it wouldn't matter. Because I've already voted.

So much for "election day."

I remember one election day, years ago. I was a budding newsman, stationed in the old county elections headquarters in Abbeville, S.C. (a very nice little town that Julia Roberts called "hell" after filming a so-so movie there in 1990).

Supporters of various candidates gathered on the lawn outside the building, along the old town square, as the results trickled in. Reporters clustered inside, by the big green chalkboard. Precinct captains would dash in to read off their numbers as a clerk tallied them on the board. Then someone would open the window and holler the results to the crowd below. I'd run to a pay phone to the boss. There was excitement in the air.

That was an election day.

Pasco County, now: Voting machines are set up in the lobby of government buildings two weeks before the big day. People come and go at their leisure. They vote and get a little sticker for their shirts: "I Voted." Yawn.

I guess there is some good to the new way. I didn't have to stand in line. I got to vote on my own time. It was pretty convenient.

As a bonus, it's pretty inconvenient for politicians.

Retired political consultant Mary Repper considered the early voting issue.

"You're one of the challenges for people who are in this business," she told me. "I've got no objection to people being able to vote early. It's good for the process.

"But with my other hat on: How do the elected officials have an opportunity to talk to you? Isn't it just a little unfair for the elected officials to spend money sending you materials?" she asked. "You already voted. Some of these campaigns live hand to mouth. There isn't a dime to spare."

Candidates hanging on to what Repper called a "brown cow" - a scandalous political bomb aimed at their opponents - will have to release it a bit earlier than before, just to catch the early voters' attention, she said. But maybe that's for the better, she said. At least the target has time to respond.

Pasco County Supervisor of Elections Kurt Browning acknowledged that times are changing. Candidates need to change with them. Voter rolls listing only those who have yet to vote are d constantly. A new list costs less than $10.

In the old days, an absentee voter had to swear that he or she would be too far away or too ill to go to the polling place on election day. That changed with the reforms after the 2000 "election."

Now, it's vote as you please, up to 15 days early. By Friday, more than 2,000 Pasco residents had taken advantage of early voting at stations set up at elections offices in New Port Richey, Land O'Lakes and Dade City.

It's better for the process. It reduces crowds. It's the future, Browning said.

But, gee, I miss the old ways.

I suppose, come Tuesday, I could still consume heroic volumes of beer. Maybe I'll try to get the old gang back together. I wonder if Julia Roberts is available.