Elections don't define our entire world

When we woke up Wednesday morning, about half of us were thrilled and the other half felt dejected.

That's the way it goes the day after a presidential election.

Still, the sun rose on a fall day in Kenosha County.

Same thing Thursday morning. And, we're assuming, the sun rose today, too.

As I drive to the office every day, I share the road with other folks heading to work. We share the same goal: Get there safely, have a productive day and, if we're lucky, maybe snag a doughnut or share a few laughs with co-workers before heading back home.

All of which is a great reminder that, whatever happens with elections, life does go on. The birds are even still singing.

Local voters

Tuesday, I spent the morning rushing around, talking with people at four polling places. The election deadline was looming, with passions running high.

Still, every person I met was friendly, smiling and happy to be voting.

That's another great reminder that we're Americans, we're friends, we're neighbors — and most of us aren't consumed 24/7 with politics.

At the Oribiletti Center in Lincoln Park, people stood in a line outside, waiting to vote, while a steady rain made everything soggy.

Still, folks were upbeat, and Kathy Becker, the site's chief election inspector, was happy "to see a good turnout."

She's been working elections for close to 30 years in Kenosha. Why? Because voting "is how your voice is heard as a citizen of the United States. This is how we determine who leads our country."

At the Southwest Library Tuesday, retired teacher Kate Dischler-Noreen was "happy to be here and proud to be here," working the election, as she's done for two decades.

Voting, she said, "is so important. We need to hear your voice."

Voters at Somers Town Hall got a bonus for voting there: A stream of cow-related jokes from poll worker Mike Iselin. (What do you call a cow that doesn't give milk? A milk dud or udderly useless.)

Next to Iselin was first-time poll worker Bill Kroll, trying something new at age 90.

"I saw on the news that they needed poll workers, so I volunteered," he said.

Iselin, a veteran election worker, predicted "the biggest turnout in my lifetime for this election — and I'm 86 years old." (Then he added another bovine joke: What do you call a cow that just gave birth? Decaffeinated.)

For poll worker Danny Lamantia, not voting isn't an option.

"It's your duty as a citizen," he said at the Northside Library. "I served in the military, and voting is the least you can do. And if you don't vote, you can't complain."

Though the library was busy Tuesday morning, Lamantia had already voted, by mail.

Working the polls for him is another way to stay active and social in retirement.

"I just love seeing all the people here and talking with them," he said.

Come together

Elections come and elections go, but the world still turns and the grass still grows.

In my northside Kenosha neighborhood, there are political signs adorning front yards, often with opposing candidates right next-door to each other.

It's the same in neighborhoods all over the country.

We may vote for different candidates, but at the end of the day — and the end of a campaign cycle — we're still neighbors who look out for each other, shovel a walk when needed and discuss how well the grass is growing this year.

Signing off

You hear that?

It's the sound of silence. Or, more accurately, the sound of the 2024 presidential campaigns signing off.

No more will our phones buzz with urgent calls and texts begging for money or trashing the other candidate.

Finally, we can watch a football game or that new "Matlock" show without being bombarded by non-stop political ads.

And now when I bring in the mail, I'll find the pile is heavy on holiday catalogs, bills and credit card offers instead of glossy campaign fliers screaming about the end of the world as we know it.

We should try to enjoy this brief respite from full-court political pressure, because we only have a few more days until the "Race to the White House 2028" campaigns start up. I suggest we enjoy the quiet while we can.