Why I Won't Vote, or, Mulligan Stew: It’s What’s for Dinner
I’m calling for a boycott of this year’s presidential election. Who’s with me? I wasn’t old enough to vote in 1972 (I was 17), and of the elections I’ve participated in since I became a legally eligible voter, things have not gone well, whether my candidate won or not. So this go-round, I’m staying home. I will not be a party to validating any of the fools on either roster. Here’s a snapshot of why: When I was a teenager in the very late 60s and early 70s, I knew it was a dirty, corrupt world we were living in. I’d witnessed the Kennedy and King assassinations, watched Detroit, L.A., Newark, Chicago, and a whole host of other stellar U.S. cities go up in flames in protest and race riots, learned of the murders at the Rolling Stones’ free concert at Altamont only a few months after the success of Woodstock (thank you, Hell’s Angels!), and sighed in disgust as I watched the evening news reports of how our very own Ohio National Guard used live rounds to quell an ant...