You're Always a Day Away

Despite millions of people voting for weeks now, tomorrow is officially Election Day. When I cast my first ballot in 1981, it was an exhilarating experience. Interested in political theater as a boy, I—who collected buttons, posters, and pamphlets since the age of ten—was finally participating in American democracy. Since that momentous day a long time ago, the feeling of casting my ballot has run the gamut from exciting to—yawn—joylessly exercising my civic duty in preordained contests and byzantine initiatives. Regrettably, the latter is increasingly the norm here in New York City, particularly during a general election. This year is no exception. My congressman, state senator, and assemblyman have only token opposition. And while I voted for Biden, there’s little suspense vis-à-vis the presidential race outcome in New York State. It’s blueberry blue and has been for some time.

And so, in this most bizarre year and era, permit me to stroll down Memory Lane and revisit several past elections and my participation in these formerly civilized and orderly snapshots in our storied history. Yesterday, I visited midtown Manhattan, where early voting was ongoing at Madison Square Garden of all places. The signs of the season were everywhere: Vote! Vote! Vote!

In 1984, my first presidential election year as an eligible voter, I attended a Mondale-Ferraro rally in Manhattan's fabled Garment District, when it was actually that in more than name. Unions then played a considerable role in the Democratic Party. And, too, New York State was still a competitive state. 

I recall Democratic nominee Walter Mondale saying how energized he was by the large, enthusiastic crowds at such rallies all across the country. It lulled him into believing he might actually defeat Ronald Reagan in his bid for reelection. At the end of the day, Mondale lost forty-nine of fifty states in 1984, barely winning his home state of Minnesota. Reagan won New York State with 54% of the vote.

2020 has seen a lot of new "Dead Ends" popping up...

 As well as more "Rough Roads" than ever before...

Another rally that I attended was for Jerry Brown, who was vying for the 1992 Democratic presidential nomination. It was not too far from this old New York locale on the eve of the state's presidential primary. Among the many luminaries on stage with the candidate were "Professor" Irwin Corey, Bella Abzug, and actor Roy Scheider. However, the Big Three just weren't enough: Bill Clinton won the New York primary with 52% of the vote to Brown's 20.2%. Paul Tsongas—memba him—came in third with 18.1%.

Or, if it works for you: Drink first, vote second.

But whether it's first or second, please support your local restaurants while imbibing...

All of them: Big and small alike.

Even those that serve lamb salad from a street wagon. As a kid, mom occasionally served lamb chops. The consensus among we little people was that they "smelled like the zoo." So, I'll pass on the lamb salad all these years later.

In 1993, I believed the stakes were never higher in an election. When I woke up the morning after Election Day, I learned that Rudy Giuliani had defeated the well-meaning but over-matched incumbent David Dinkins. At that moment in time, New York City appeared to be spiraling out of control to a possible point of no return. Rudy was sort of the knight on a white horse. But that was then and this is now. It's really sad to see "America's Mayor," whose leadership in the aftermath of 9/11 was favorably compared with Winston Churchill, further soiling his reputation with each passing breath and frothing at the mouth.

Certainly not! If you haven't heard, he's the "Luv Guv" and a best-selling author of a book, which touts his incredible leadership during the darkest days of the pandemic. I'll say this for him: The man has no problem blowing his own horn.

I was a fourteen-year old kid in the summer of 1977, when there was a contentious Democratic mayoral primary. Abe Beame was the hapless incumbent presiding over an unprecedented fiscal crisis. Among his challengers for the party nomination were Bella Abzug, Mario Cuomo, and an obscure congressman named Ed Koch. The well-known Abzug was the early favorite. During a debate, Bella went off on the then political neophyte, Cuomo, questioning his acceptance of the Liberal Party nomination, when, in fact, he was not, nor ever had been, a member of the party. Bella kept badgering him on that point, loudly repeating: "I'd like to have an answer. I'd like to have an answer. I'd like to have an answer." Exasperated, Cuomo interjected, "Well, when you close your mouth, I'll answer!" Those in attendance gasped with a measure of glee. The blowhard silenced. And you thought only men spoke over women during debates!

My father worked in this esteemed edifice for decades. It's thee post office, the one with that famous motto for all to see above its ornate front entrance on Eighth Avenue: "Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds." While Dad wasn't a courier during his USPS career, his shift ended in the gloom of night, at midnight as a matter of fact. At that godly hour, he had to ride the subway back to the Bronx. 

Speaking of the subway, here's an entrance on 34th Street and Seventh Avenue. It's been boarded up in anticipation of possible Election Night riots and looting.

It's called MPPP (Mostly Peaceful Protest Prep). 

Bless this house and all others come what may tomorrow.

Really, there's entirely too much politics in our lives nowadays. It wasn't the case in 1977, 1984, 1992, and 1993. Life more or less returned to normal after Election Day. The losers congratulated the winners and accepted the results. It might be wishful thinking on my part, but let's hope that happens tomorrow night or however long it takes to officially declare winners and losers. 

When the train pulls out of the station, it's time to go home, mute the hysteria button, and get on with life.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)