It had been a rough year, but Joseph Robinette B. Jr. from Pennsylvania was still excited to vote in this year’s election. He had some local favorites he wanted to support, but what he was REALLY looking forward to was casting his vote for the President of the United States!
He was old, so this might be the last election for him. And not just himself. The entire country was in trouble if the wrong guy was in the White House. Everything was on the line, he thought. If he could only get to the polls.
You see, Joseph was getting 24/7 care. Certainly, from his wife, but also a well-chosen staff. They planned his days, arranged his meals, and even scheduled his visits. They had his best interests at heart.
Or did they?
His son was in constant legal battles and was running his good family name into the ground with rumors of drugs, taking bribes, and …worse! Mr. B’s care-givers could not, or would not do anything to help. In fact, when asked, they did not even admit there was a problem. Maybe, they meant well, but as with most things, this approach only made matters worse.
People stopped talking behind Joseph’s back and began asking him to his face about his son’s criminal behavior. They accused him of being an enabler. Sadly, this forced Joseph to seclude himself even more than he had when COVID19 first came on the scene.
But it was still important to take part in the election! Somehow, he had to make his way to the polls!
Who could he tell? Who could help him? Certainly, not his new aid. She smiled a lot. She laughed a lot more. It was creepy. But Joseph got a chill looking at her cold, dead eyes behind her face mask. He had a distinct feeling she only took the job so she could somehow take claim to everything that was rightfully his when he was ‘out of the way’.
He couldn’t trust her to help.
He tried to tell visitors. But his once fast mind was now slow and cloudy. His ability to spin a yarn and charm friendly crowds had been replaced with jumbled, nonsensical words, and improbable sentences. And he wasn’t just forgetting names, he was calling people “Abraham Lincoln” and other ridiculous things. As confused as he was, his listeners were even more so. And as you would expect, these stressful situations made Joseph lash out and insult even his friends. “You pony-faced, chowder toed, lying puppy dog!” No, it never made sense, but feelings were hurt nonetheless.
How could he get to the polls without being able to ask for help? He just HAD to vote for his favorite candidate. This year mattered! Whatever else was cloudy in his mind, this one thing he saw clearly. His guy was THE guy. Joseph noticed him since he began his public life. It was as if his and Joseph’s destiny were one and the same. Somehow, he felt that strongly about it.
Mr. B made it to the polls.
With help he signed in, provided ID (but not TOO much, ID — that would be racist). He took his place in line and when it was his turn, they called his name. No response. They called his name two or three times before his haze passed and he responded. After wandering around for a bit, they urged him into his voting booth.
When he closed the curtain behind him his mind went blank once more. He was too embarrassed to ask for help, so he took in a few slow breaths and concentrated. He created an image of the two main candidates and weighed them in his mind. He slowly started listing accomplishments, their demeanor, and their core values. Eventually, he came to the only conclusion that made sense.
He happily made his mark and gave his ballot to the smiling attendee. He got his “I VOTED” sticker, put it on his lapel, and left the building a happy man. He KNEW the man he voted for was the only man for the job!
And that’s how Joseph Robinette Biden, Jr. voted for Donald Trump in 2020.