OK, I spent the past week looking behind the voting booth curtain, and it was scary. I had no idea just how much we rely on chance, faith and volunteers to get an election done in this country. Incredible. I have new respect for poll workers. I have new doubts about the result in a close race. I haven’t seen anything this homespun since I went to Amish country. And it’s significantly less charming when your vote is in the balance.
Check out my Time.com story on how your polling place works (or not) here.
Bottom line: Most people will not have to wait too long. But some people will have to wait an ungodly amount of time. All I can tell you is to try to get there between 10 am and 12 or 2 pm and 4 pm. Bring reading and equanimity. And if you run into problems, don’t leave without voting in some way, shape or form. Even if you use a provisional ballot (or even better, a back-up paper ballot), make sure you get it done.
I’m headed out to Virginia today to attend a training class for poll workers. Until I started working on this story about the logistics of polling places, I never realized just how much we rely on volunteers (read: senior citizens) to carry out elections. They really take care of everything, these guys.
On Tuesday, hundreds of thousands of volunteers will appear at polling places at 5 a.m. (!) and manage what is expected to be a record turnout. They will look up your name, direct you to a voting booth, delicately explain that you can’t wear your Obama button or your McCain t-shirt in the polling place, resolve complex legal questions, puzzle over any technical meltdowns and try to keep the line moving.
For this, they get about $100. If all goes well (and in many places, it most certainly won’t), they go home around 9 pm.
One of the deadliest fires in American history happened on the night of May 28, 1977, at the Beverly Hills Supper Club outside of Cincinnati, Ohio. I wrote about this fire in my book because it was a case study in how groups behave in disasters. People struggled to stay with the people with whom they had arrived. The guests became largely passive and obedient, while the waiters and cooks did the vast majority of life saving. Darla McCollister, who had her wedding at the Club that night, was kind enough to share her story for the book.
Now we have some news on this fire, 31 years later. Glenn Corbett, a respected expert on fire safety and engineering, told me in New York City last month that he was looking into this fire at the request of one of the survivors--who believes there is reason so suspect arson. Glenn has since spent some time in Kentucky looking over the records and decided the case is worth revisiting. He and a group of survivors have called on the governor of Kentucky to create a new commission to investigate the causes of the ferioucious fire---which had been officially blamed on faulty wiring.
To learn more about this development, check out the local news coverage here. Darla, the survivor featured in The Unthinkable, is one of those interviewed:
I spent the past few days talking to smart people about the brain. I wanted to know what happens to our brains during an economic meltdown of the kind we are currently experiencing. It was fascinating. You can see what I learned on Time.com.
At the end of each conversation, I asked these people—neuroscientists, anxiety experts, decision-science researchers—what they were doing differently than the rest of us during this strange period.
They aren’t checking how much they have lost, for one thing. They don’t trust their brains with that kind of drama. They are waiting 24 hours after a flurry of news before making any changes. “Fear is a drug,” neuroeconomist Gregory Berns told me. “Don’t make any financial decisions under the influence of fear.”
I actually feel a lot more chill about the whole situation having talked to them. Your brain is just doing its thing—worrying about things it can’t control. That doesn’t mean your brain is right.
For help with anxiety, check out the The Mindfulness and Acceptance Workbook for Anxiety—a promising new approach to a very old problem. Or get the workbook for free by participating in this study. Special thanks to John Forsyth, one of the co-authors of the workbook and a helpful source to me over the years, for letting me know about this very cool study.
I did an NPR Talk of the Nation segment today about what people take with them when they evacuate. The wildfires sweeping southern California have made the question urgent for thousands of people. But every year, for people all over America, evacuation has become a semi-annual ritual. Interestingly, people don’t usually pack very well on the first try. By the 2nd or 3rd disaster, though, they are experts in what to take and what to leave behind.
It got me thinking, and I figured it might be fun to make a short list of the less-obvious essentials—all things that people have said they wished they had taken or were most grateful they had remembered.
My own pillow
Play Station
Crossword puzzles
Kids’ immunization records
Battery-powered TVs
Cat litter (for use by humans)
Ear plugs
Ziploc bags!
The wine we were saving for special occasions
Special thanks to the New Orleans Times-Picayune for collecting some of the above must-haves.
Got any of your own to add?
subscribe
