Some of y’all know that I became a UK citizen
last year – no, I can hear you asking, not a subject, a citizen. Turns out only people in the colonies are
subjects. According to the BBC, the difference
is that we citizens have rights, while the subjects are just “subjected” to
sovereignty. (Harkening back to my US
history and the reasons for the Boston Tea Party, that sounds about right.)
But, after living in London for years, I did
the opposite of my tea-bailing forefathers and re-joined the Empire. Now, this may not sound like a big deal to
some of y’all (particularly as I get to keep my US citizenship so am now dual),
but this was the first time I have ever committed to anything in my life. (Except
maybe that little tattoo I got in San Diego when I was 25, but come to think of
it, I don’t think I realized that was a permanent decision at the time. And, no, I wasn’t drunk, but I was 25 which
is almost the same thing, right?)
So, yeah, not so much on the long term
commitment thing – I’ve never owned a home or a flat, never been married, no
kids. Nope, the only permanent thing in
my life is my on-off relationship with
20 lbs. Which after 40 seems to become more of a permanent thing, sadly…
Hence, swearing an allegiance to something
forever was quite a big deal for me. In deference
to my commitment, I pre-selected my mood music (Jerusalem and Rule Britannia,
natch) to accompany me into the ceremony
(which, was really just me and my iPod on the 277 bus heading to the
council office), practiced my vows
(oops, I mean oath) and wore a pretty new dress (No, not white. And no veil.
Though, truth be told, there was a certain Union Flag satin head piece
thingy that my friend Ruth brought me.
(new and blue!)) I sang a song,
got teary eyed and walked out of the council office with a new legal status. (but,
sorely lacking in a rice, rose petals or bubble cascade, sadly.)
I was now a British citizen. (Or am I supposed to now spell it citisen??) Honestly, this is going to cause some confusion and stress
for me, as I can’t un-learn the right way to spell things - without the superfluous “u” (what value
does it bring to “color” or “neighbour,” I ask?) using a “z” where there is, in
fact, a z sound. ZZZZZ – not ssssssss.
Imagine if we realissssed, organissssed or advertisssse? Ludicrous.
(oh shoot, does that mean I should be spelling that ludicros?)
But, I digress.
As a new citizen of the UK, I get rights
and one of those rights is that I get to vote. (Arguably, that is the best
right, but I actually think the short immigration line at Heathrow tops that
one pretty handily.) In any event, this
last week saw the most exciting election build-up – tightly contested, narrowly
predicted and closer than ever according the media. (more on THAT later) So, natch, I took my new right seriously and
sought out to become an informed voter.
And, the first thing to realize is that color is important. Conservatives are blue, liberals are red,
liberal democrats are orange. So, pretty
much the opposite from the US. (Oh and
no option to do an Obama and wear purple as a compromise – that is the color of
the UK Independence Party. They have one
position, which is to get out of the EU and hate any form of immigration. Immigrant AND born in Germany --clearly, I am
not their demographic.))
Now that I had the colors down pat, it was
time to understand the issues. And, before
you ask, don’t be silly. Of course I
didn’t read their published policy statements (oddly called a manifesto, which
is a term I’ve only seen used in reference to the crazy ramblings of serial
killers. Hmmm. Coincidence?). No, I decided to ask
some of my friends who hold strong views about politics. Which, in my circle, seems to be Labour
only. But, to a person, their reasons
for voting Labour always began with, “so, back when Margaret Thatcher…”.
I feel like I am failing in my first
Britishy-ness test as I don’t understand how a politician who hasn’t been in
office for 25 years and died two year ago can still dictate how you vote. Imagine if you asked an American why they
voted Democrat and they told you Ronald Reagan?? (But, then again, in the scheme of things, 25
years for a country that has only been around for a couple hundred years does
seem like ancient history, where it is but merely a drop in the bucket for a nation
that was formed in the 10th Century.
Hmm. Must rethink.)
Regardless, no one could convince me
logically which way to vote, so I had to read the manifestos after all. Or, at least, I thought I would, but then
realized (realised??) that each one was about 100 pages. So, I just skipped to the headlines on the
BBC website. Well, actually, just the first one for Labour,
which stated that they wanted to guarantee jobs for young people on welfare,
which would be paid for by taxing bankers’ bonuses. So, creating fake jobs and paying for this by
taking money away from people who did real jobs?
Yeah, there’s a word for that.
It’s called
COMMUNISM.
So, maybe these policy snippets weren’t the
most reflective of the manifestos or the best basis for deciding which way to
vote. This left me no choice.
I had to take the online quiz.
The results of which were a huge surprise
to me. Well, maybe not so much. I still
came out as Conservative, but I did have strong Labour (see, now I want to
write Labor. Ugh.) leanings. One would have thought being a Longhorn, I
may have shown some preferences for the Orange. But, no, so, I decided to vote Conservative
blue.
I got up early to get to the polls at 7:30
am so I could have enough time to wait to vote and then get to work by 9:30 am. Only, I didn’t have to wait, so I was in and
out in 5 minutes. And there was only one
choice – made with a pencil and an “X” – no machines, no chads, no long
complicated ballots. Just a piece of
paper and a pencil, which I then folded and put in a shoe box thing with a
slot. I felt like I was voting for 8th
grade Student Council president.
But, I was going to exercise my voice in
this hotly contested election. I was
going to speak for my views and participate in this democratic process, which
we all knew was going to be neck and neck.
Except that it wasn’t. And, my constituency
(unbeknownst to me thanks to my poor research) is a Labour stronghold, taking 65%
of the vote, so my vote was the equivalent of spitting into an ocean. The Red Sea, if you will. (But, given that one of the choices was “Cannabis
is safer than Alcohol” party, I think you get the demographic).
And, they don’t even give out “I voted”
stickers. (which, to be fair, you don’t really need since you don’t need any
actual proof to show why you were late to work because you weren’t late to
work. Because it takes 5 minutes to
vote. Because you only have one choice.)
Yes, everyone was surprised by the
results. Which we had pretty speedily
(not too hard, given we only have one time zone and 20% of the population of
the US and I may have mentioned this, but only one choice) and without any recounts or the intervention
of the Supreme Court.
I honestly don’t know if I chose correctly,
but turns out it doesn’t matter. I
consummated my citizenship.
And, at
least now we know who will Rule Britannia.
(queue tears and music) :)
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