free hugs
the last couple of weeks have been really terrible. just generally everything feels like it's collapsing down on our heads. every day the mailbox is stuffed full of election brochures assuring me the world is ending. ending today, in fact. remember remember the fifth of november.
so this morning i went down to my local polling place to do my civic duty. and with me i brought a sign.
you see, last week there was a big scandal. the attorney general in my state declared that sloganearring was acceptable on the grounds during voting. this led to one side screaming voter intimidation, another side screaming i'm going to bring my giant whatever whatever flag. and lots of us in the middle heaving a tired sigh of general discontent. the malaise of a doom-driven 60 second news cycle.
i giggled to myself under cover of predawn darkness as I wrote out my big block letters and planned my morning of radical first amendment activity. “ i bet you never thought this would be the outcome, frank larose. bwaaaaahahaha.”
when i arrived at the location, i tried out my line on the first three poll workers i saw. “how are you doing today? can i interest you in a hug?”
two rejections, one fist bump. but they still let me vote. winning.
when i turned in my ballot, i asked that guy too. he didn't want a hug, so i upped the ante and told him i was going out to the parking lot with a sign and planned on handing out free hugs until i got bored. he made no response to this statement, only pointed at the bin for me to deposit my form. winning by forfeit is still winning.
so off i went. ready to found the make america hug again movement. a one-woman demonstration of absurdity, backed by my tiny bluetooth speaker and 2.5 hours of classic raggae music. why? because why the fuck not.
i am convinced that the covid lockdowns did something horrible to us. i really think that's when things turned ugly in this country. human beings aren't meant to keep each other 6 ft away. when you never touch another person, it's like they aren't real.
almost immediately people started slowing down in their cars, giving me the thumbs up, throwing peace signs and waving. this bolstered my spirits. some people got out of their cars and practically sprinted across the parking lot. some people walked up to me asking what I was doing. some people walked by and didn't say anything but then asked for a hug on the way out. one woman gave me a hug on the way in and then hugged me a second time as she left.
when people looked irritated or tried to ignore me, i shouted “hey if you need a hug i’ll be here when you come out.” or “if you need a hug later make sure you have someone you can hug.” or “the world is still beautiful and you probably need a hug.”
even the grumpiest people, who wouldn't look at me or respond, reluctantly waved back at me when i waved goodbye to their cars shouting “have a great day” and “don't forget it's a great day to be alive.”
the voting wards are small in my town. everything is small in my town. these people are my neighbors. i ride my bike past their houses everyday & pass by them on the local hiking trail when i'm out with my dog. they might not know it but they've probably seen my art where it is installed at our courthouse.
if you could judge a hug on quality, i think you would have to include things like length of hug, two arms or one arm, body position & duration of squeeze.
by my unscientific estimation, every single one of these people desperately needed a hug, because boy did they ever give ‘em.
one gentleman spoke with me briefly before going in, disappeared into the polling place for some amount of time and came back asling, “you're not all hugged out yet?”
no sir. this is the best morning of my life. i haven't got this many hugs since i was in kindergarten.
i stayed for about 2 hours and this is the final count:
23 hugs
3 fist bumps
1 handshake
and one lady who told me i was going to get covid and lice doing a stunt like this. (i’ll let you know on that prediction.)
until next time, keep your sticks on the ice. we're all in this together, whatever it’s going to be.
ps- the lady who swore two poxes on my house, gave me a piece of candy on her way out. no joke. i hope it wasn't poisoned.