THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, November 5, 1996 TAG: 9611050002
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A15 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: OPINION
SOURCE: KERRY DOUGHERTY
LENGTH: 82 lines
They were power-walking down the Boardwalk early one morning last week. Two women, mid-30s, in bike shorts and T-shirts, pumping hand weights, flashing well-toned calf muscles and sporting tawny salon tans.
Might have been a couple of soccer moms for all I knew.
As the sun rose over the ocean and a crisp autumn breeze blew at their backs, they strode at my perfect pace, so I could neither pass nor drop out of earshot.
And so, for lack of a Walkman, I fell in behind them and listened to their spirited conversation.
They were arguing about the upcoming presidential election. Like so many other voters they had one thing in common - neither had anything good to say about either major-party candidate. But they were each effusive about the man they liked least.
One woman thought Clinton was disgusting. The other thought Dole was a fossil. Their argument centered completely on which man was most unfit for public office.
Did I say voters? They weren't. The only thing they agreed upon was that this year, on Election Day, they would not vote.
``It just encourages them,'' said one, laughing, after admitting she wasn't even registered.
``I tried voting last time, it didn't work,'' joked the other.
I wanted to jump into the middle of their breathless conversation and play social-studies teacher. But I didn't.
Here's what I would have said to them: ``Voting for president is a lot like going to a restaurant with your friends. You don't necessarily find your favorite dish on the menu, but you read the menu carefully, seek the waiter's advice and then order whatever seems best.
``To get another menu, you have to go to another restaurant and leave your friends behind.
``To get other candidates for president you would have to go to another country. You think we have it bad in the United States? Would you really rather be choosing between Boris Yeltsin and Gennady Zhuganov, or between England's bland John Major and colorless Tony Blair?''
Thanks, I'll take our American presidential entrees any day.
We'd been marching along a couple of miles at this point and I thought about how not voting was a little like being thirsty. Really thirsty. If you're dying of thirst and you stumble on a place serving beverages but they're out of your favorite - Coke Classic - what do you do? Do you just lie down in the dust and dehydrate? Of course not, you drink Pepsi, for heaven's sake.
I'm sick and tired of people complaining about the caliber of the presidential candidates. We're voting for president, not for next-door neighbor.
Who cares if all Bob Dole can talk about is the past? I have relatives who do the same thing. There's an easy way to deal with people who keep repeating themselves - ignore them. Or try not to sit next to them at dinner.
The other woman seemed obsessed with Bill Clinton's reputation as a womanizer. I wanted to shout at her, ``Look, lady, he's going to the White House, he's not going to the prom with your daughter.''
Very rarely in American history has there been a truly exquisite choice of presidential candidates. Oh, there were Dwight Eisenhower and Adlai Stevenson in 1952 and 1956. Gentlemen both, and able. Two men with clearly articulated views of government.
That's a rarity. Usually we have to chose from a field of flawed white men. It's not that hard. Most white women have been doing that for years.
I wanted to remind these ladies that there is no disgrace in voting against the candidate they like least, either. It's the American way. If that wasn't true, how would Michael Dukakis have racked up millions of votes? Did anyone outside of the Dukakis family actually vote for him?
If I hadn't been so tired after striding the entire length of the Boardwalk I might have reminded these women that although it's a free country and the First Amendment guarantees them freedom of speech, a lot of us voters believe those who don't vote have no right to complain about politics for the next four years.
The rest of us, however, have every right to complain. Loud and clear. We don't have to love our president or any of our politicians. We might not want them for neighbors.
We just have the satisfaction of knowing we ordered the best item on the menu we were given. If we don't like what we're served, we can send it back next time. MEMO: Ms. Dougherty is an editorial writer for The Virginian-Pilot. by CNB