I just got back from voting. It was fairly quick. Short lines (on account of me not getting out of my apartment until after 10). There was a short delay, while they had trouble getting the voting machine working. Turns out it had come unplugged.

The guys running the voting machine to the left of me had no line. “Seventeen…,” said one of the guys. “That’s pathetic,” replied the other. Hopefully, their count will increase. Chelsea residents aren’t known for being early risers. And I heard that Paul Van Dyke was spinning last night, which makes an early start even less likely in this neighborhood.

This election is vaguely frustrating. I find it incredibly lame that New York’s incumbent governor declined to participate in a debate with his challengers. I’m very happy to help reelect my local congressman, Jerrold Nadler, but almost wish I could make my vote count in one of the more closely contested races around the country.

Anyway, national politics pale in comparison to the infighting happening among the group of volleyball players who play at the gym’s sand court. We must have had at least 75 group emails in the last 24 hours posturing, negotiating, and taking personal jabs over scheduling playing time on the court. I hope these people take the time out to vote for the makeup of their government…

One other piece of volleyball news… My indoor team is in first place. We’re 12-3 on the season so far, with half of it done. One Team, Under Dog! Maybe if we win the playoffs, we can rule the nation as a secret tribunal…