The Ballad PeoplePosted: June 7, 2016
“They screwed up the presidential ballads,” Mom hollered.
I stopped reading and put down my Kindle with a sigh.
“Better go check out the latest crisis,” Bill said with a grin. “You never know what kind of national emergency might be looming.”
“Oh, shut up,” I muttered, as I stood and walked from the Arizona Room into the living room.
“Okay, who screwed up what?” I asked as I plopped down in the recliner next to her loveseat.
“They did,” she exclaimed, pointing at the television.
“Who? Cory McCloskey, the weather guy?”
“No, the ballad people,” she said. “They’ve screwed up the election and they have to mail out new ballads.”
“Well it’s a long way until the election so they have plenty of time.”
“No they don’t, it’s next month.”
“No it isn’t, that’s a special election, not the presidential election.”
“How do you know?” she asked somewhat skeptically. “Maybe it’s a special presidential election and now they can’t do it here because the ballads are screwed up.”
“Because I already heard the news story. They put the same title in Spanish for Prop 123 and 124, so they have to reprint the ballads.”
“Well I already sent mine in,” she whined. “Will I have to fill out the new one in Spanish? I don’t speak Mexican, you know.”
“No, Mom, you can just mark the English line and send it in again. It’ll be fine,” I reassured her as I left to go back to my book.
“Well it better be,” she called after me. “I’d hate to think I was voting for that Trump guy just because I couldn’t read Mexican.”