Like all good Vo Dilunduhs, Phillipe and Jorge used our unaffiliated voter status to become "Republicans for a day," cast our ballots in the GOP primary, and then switch back to being independents immediately afterward. It is a wonderful Biggest Little tradition, which we honor whenever we can.
Needless to say, the Casa Diablo vote went to Buddy Roemer (who he?), a man who may or may not still be alive. Actually, it was only fitting, since the coon-ass Bud-I (not to be confused with our own Bud-I) had actually switched parties himself while governor of Looziana — one of the few recent governors of that state who didn't end up in Angola prison after his time in office.
P&J also used the occasion to test out Little Rhody's strict new voter verification laws, which require photo identification. And our attempts to game the system didn't fool the state's ever-sharp poll watchers (average age: 98). P. showed a fake ID with the name Anselmo Vicioso, featuring a photo of Mike Tyson's tattooed face cut out of Sports Illustrated, and he was immediately pulled out of line by a poll worker. Ready to cop a plea, P. was informed that he should not be in the M thru R line, but rather the S thru Z queue, where he was immediately handed a ballot.
Jorge met with similar investigative acumen. Brandishing an ID with a still photo of Margaret Hamilton in her Wicked Witch of the West Oz makeup, his name was listed as Dame Judi Dench. The charade didn't last long. J. was quickly grabbed by the arm and escorted past 20 waiting citizens to the front of the line, where he was told that due to his listed age of 104 and distinguished title, he/she should not be forced to stand in line with the great unwashed.
We are pleased to see that the new system works a treat, and can envision an equally admirable result when more than 100 people actually vote come November.
VISIONS OF THE FUTURE
Speaking of local traditions, every spring P&J suggest that anyone who considers himself or herself a true Vo Dilunduh should attend at least one Pawtucket Red Sox game per year.
P&J have separately thrown out the first pitch at a game and sung the national anthem before it. But it is not those two acts of human kindness bestowed by the PawSox that lead to our recommendation. No, it's just that we have witnessed the transformation of the franchise and the ballpark from the depressing squalor of the 1970s into a local field of dreams under the management of the best front office in baseball. (Fact: All of the PawSox top officials have been named Minor League Executive of the Year at least once, and all have undoubtedly turned down huge bucks from major league teams to remain in The Bucket.)
Thanks to the late and eternally revered Ben Mondor and his baseball children, Mike Tamburro and Lou Schwechheimer, a PawSox game has become a better family outing than Disney World. And at about 1/1000th of the price.