I love voting so much I (nearly) always do it on the actual day, just for the vibe of the thing. The crowds. The how-to-vote hander-outerers. The friendly chitchat in the queue, mercifully brief.
This time was different. What should have been a 15-minute excursion into democracy brought me face-to-face with folks who don’t love or get the vibe of the thing. And who find it all a major inconvenience, even though it happens less frequently than once in a blue moon. Much love to educators like Heather Sharp, associate professor and researcher in democracy at the University of Newcastle, who attempt to get the voting message across. More of her later.
Clover Moore celebrates her victory on Saturday night.Credit: Janie Barrett
I personally didn’t mind the 45-minute queue to cast my vote on Saturday in the council elections. (There were plenty of NSW Electoral Commission workers, says Andrea Summerell, the commission’s executive director, elections, but too many of us changed our minds about where we wanted to vote.)
For someone like me, a City of Sydney voter, the queuing is a perfect opportunity for a good sticky-beak. Staring at strangers, neighbours, friends. Time to ask a few nosy questions. Time to eavesdrop wildly. I enjoyed Randall, a local consulting engineer, using his time to meditate on the process and, as he left, explaining how long it would take us all to get through: “It’s five minutes for every nine people.” Always trust a consulting engineer to figure stuff out.
And so it was that the people behind me in the queue were half a dozen lads who looked like they’d escaped from St John’s College or similar (stereotypes exist for a reason). They were not happy about the wait. Not happy they couldn’t do anything about it.
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It’s just after 11am on Saturday and the weekend stretches out before them. Their idea of fun is evidently not standing in a line to exercise their democratic right to vote. One of the young blokes, not wanting to be in a queue, rings his dad. Loudly. “Dad!” he says. “Dad, can you vote for me?”
He was not joking. And he was not impressed with the loud reply on the other end. Love you, Dad. (Apologies to the Cadbury commercial.)
Turns out that none of them was eligible to vote at this booth. What ensued was one of the polling place managers having to take them through the rules of the game, including – surprisingly to me and to them – that you can’t lodge absentee votes on election day for local councils. Oi, state government, that should change. A special shoutout to Ashley, one of the polling place managers who the Electoral Commission calls “one day wonders”. They work for hours to deal with the weary, the weird and the whining.