I am
now going to share an (apparently) inconsequential personal story with all of
you. I recently made a small purchase at Menards. When it came time to pay, I
wrote out a check. The cashier had to call a manager over for my $11.85
purchase. $11.85. He then asked me for my ID. True story. The manager
looked at my driver's license and subsequently approved the check. I asked him,
“So, do you not see many checks anymore?” He replied, chuckling, “No.” To which
I responded, “I don't even need my ID to vote for president of the United
States.” He looked at me, shrugged, and walked away.
Strange
days are these, in which we must also present a valid ID to acquire an Olive
Garden’s “Never-Ending
Pasta Pass,” or to enter Costco, but not when we are
voting for the most powerful and consequential person—for good, bad, or
indifferent-- in the world.
This
may help explain my vague but growing feeling of unease.
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