It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

As the blue Michigan sky hung over my plastic Kia, I looked around, feeling somewhat cagey and
hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. I would be voting for the enemy so that chaos could ensue
with a brokered Democratic National Convention.

With Biden ahead in the polls, I decided to “Feel the Bern” and give the old commie some help so that
the delegates would be split between him and Sleepy Joe. Better yet, with a Sanders win or close
race in Michigan, Bernie could get his momentum back while Biden continues to crash and burn at his
rallies with limited moments of lucidity.

Putting one foot in front of the other, my boots echoed loudly on the hard cement as I walked towards
the voting precinct. I could feel my heartbeat get faster and my breathing became labored.

Like so many patriots before me, I was eager to do my part to save the country.

How could I not when the Founders pledged to each other their lives, their fortunes and their sacred
honor?

How could I not when soldiers before me laid down their lives for our freedoms?

I felt the weight of the hopes and dreams of millions before me who had walked to the voting booth to
keep our Republic. With the fate of the United States at stake, the door felt like a heavy villain, daring
me to enter and claim the very freedoms the Declaration of Independence and Constitution promised
me.

The forms sitting on the formica tables in the dimly lit room yielded no cover. I would have to choose
either a Democrat or Republican ballot and sign my name to it.

I had never voted for a Democrat presidential candidate before. My number two pencil slowly moved
across the paper and marked the box that said Democrat. It was out in the open now. I was fully
exposed.

I handed my form to the election volunteer and waited for him to laugh and say, “Democrat? Did your
forget your glasses today?”

He smiled and handed my drivers license over to the next volunteer to check me in. Then the third
volunteer handed me the ballot. A Democrat ballot. I took it like it was infected with COVID-19 and
made my way to the voting booth.

I felt a lump in my throat and my stomach was in knots. Inner turmoil was taking hold. I remembered
the caller from Michigan who was on the Rush Limbaugh show today. I was encouraged when Rush
told him it was okay to vote for Bernie.

Rush was the originator of Operation Chaos when Crooked Hillary was running against Obama. Rush
wanted to keep Hillary in the race as long as possible to cause dissension and it was a fun exercise
for everyone.

I placed my ballot on the shelf of the voting booth and read off the names of the Democratic
candidates who have been promising to destroy the country during their debates. I wondered why in
the world I had chosen such an anti-American piece of paper to hold in my hand but then I snapped
back into reality.

Voices from the past swirled around in my head. I took solace and inspiration from those voices. The
battle had begun. The inner conflict of good vs. evil was within me and I was trying to decide if I was
doing the right thing.

George Washington once said, “the harder the conflict, the greater the triumph.”

Great words to live by in any situation.

And the prophetic Abraham Lincoln warned, “When you have got an elephant by the hind leg and he
is trying to run away, it’s best to let him run.”

Who am I to argue with Lincoln?

Seizing the moment, I filled in the oval next to the words “Bernie Sanders.”

Oddly enough, lightning didn’t strike me.

I covered my confidential ballot and walked over to the computer to make my vote official. It wasn’t
too late. I could tear it up. I could run out of the room screaming.

No.

I must persevere for the good of the country. For the red white and blue.

The voting computer sucked my ballot into the slot like a Hoover vacuum and the deed was done.

The computer screen said that my vote was recorded.

I received my “I voted” sticker and I walked back out into the crisp March air, enjoying the unusual
warmth of the winter day.

Maybe I will be part of a movement that helps ensure a dramatic Trump victory. Maybe I will be the
cause of Bernie Sanders winning the presidency. In a worse case scenario, I will still get free
healthcare, right?

As Fidel Castro once said, “Condemn me. It does not matter. History will absolve me.”