Don’t complain if you were too lazy to vote

On Saturday, October 20th I was the recipient of one of the most annoyingly efficient ways to be awakened before the crack of dawn: a cell phone, and an irate mother. The latter because I’d locked my door the night before, because I was treating myself to a quasi-pity party (with nothing really worth pitying about, I just wanted to be alone for a minute) and needed the extra security of a secure door to do so.
My older cousin was calling to ensure that I was awake, and my mother was, I’m sure, doing the same. In any event, I was up and (kinda) at ’em at 6:30 a.m.
Why was I awake and forced to rush to get out of the house at such a CLEARLY ungodly hour on a cold Saturday morning?
Elections, of course.
I, like several others in my neighborhood, went to the nearest polling precinct to cast my vote for governor, lieutenant governor, secretary of state, senator, representative, insurance commissioner, and attorney general. The early time was needed in order to beat not only traffic, but to ensure that neither the LSU nor Southern games were missed.
I walked into an elementary school a neighborhood away, and entered the voting booth. (By the way, who is responsible for poll locations? I have a school three blocks away from me, but since I’ve been allowed to vote, my precincts have been in other towns, and now, in a completely different neighborhood. This ticks me off to no end). What I found there was nothing short of amazing. Who were these people? I’d never heard of well over half of them ever in life, let alone was privy to the fact that they were seeking public office. There were no less than 11 candidates for governor, and, as I scrolled down the list, several parties represented. I went in with the mindset that no matter what, as long as I didn’t vote for a Republican, all wouldn’t be lost for my great state.
However, the further I went down the list, the more depressed I got. While these days, I’m no fan of either major political party, it was clear to me, at 7:10 in the morning, that Louisiana was about to receive its governor from the GOP, and the main reason being would be because both the Independent Democratic parties refused to back up one candidate, thus splitting the vote six ways from Sunday.
While literally crying at the polling numbers at midnight, I dejectedly accepted that Louisiana was going to be in an uphill battle for the next four years. As I groan and fret over the results, even now, I can’t help but turn to the only one I know doesn’t need votes to rule, because now, at the beginning of something that could be either monumentally huge, or disastrous, the only being that can save Louisiana is God.