Rock the vote 2016

I voted today. At our library. The line was long, so I got the kids situated with some schoolwork, and then I waited. I was reading The Trojan War (Troilus and Cressida. Odysseus. Aeneas. Agamemnon. Hector.) and I would stop at the end of each chapter and pray for wisdom regarding whom I should vote for. I still had not decided.  I stopped reading for a few minutes (because the Trojan War was a MESS, and I did not need more MESS in my brain at this present moment) and observed my fellow citizens. The lady behind me, who was about my age, was dressed as a cheerleader. She explained, apologetically, to the poll workers, that she was a preschool teacher, dressed for a Halloween party. There was a tiny, fragile young lady bent almost completely over at the waist, and her dad was helping her vote on a modified portable screen from her wheel chair. The man in front of me had a deep, resonant voice, lots of jewelry and many tattoos. A big one on his forearm read "One Love," and I begin to have visions of bursting into song. Everyone would join in, in four part harmony;  maybe there would be choreography. But I realized I don't actually know most of the words to "One Love" because I never really listened to reggae. So I tried to think of another song that would somehow capture the beauty of the freedom we have, entangled with these excruciating choices presented to us. I couldn't decide what song would encompass that. We needed something anthemic. All I could think of was "I'll Fly Away" and "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". And I realized I only knew the first verses of each of them, and I might have to mumble through the part about trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored, because I am not 100% sure that is even the first verse. So, there went my plan. Alas, I did not start an inspiring chorus. The Fall of the Republic will find its roots in this failure, I have no doubt.

We got back into the car after I voted, and we were listening to the Kenneth Branaugh version of The Magician's Nephew. We got to the part where the queen has wreaked minor havoc on the streets of London. Polly, Digory, the Queen, Uncle Andrew, the horse, and the Cabby have been transported to the empty world of dark nothing, and the Cabby says this:

"And if you ask me, I think the best thing we could do to pass the time would be to sing a 'ymn.'
And he did. He struck up at once a harvest thanksgiving hymn, all about crops being "safely gathered in." It was not very suitable to a place which felt as if nothing had ever grown there since the beginning of time, but it was the one he could remember best. He had a fine voice and the children joined in; it was very cheering."

Clearly, I need to be more like that Cabby, because after their hymn, this:

"In the darkness something was happening at last. A voice had begun to sing. It was very far away and Digory found it hard to decide from what direction it was coming. Sometimes it seemed to come from all directions at once. Sometimes he almost thought it was coming out of the earth beneath them.. There were no words. There was hardly even a tune. But it was, beyond comparison, the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it...Then two wonders happened at the same moment. One was that the voice was suddenly joined by the other voices; more voices than you could possible count. They were in harmony with it, but far higher up the scale: cold, tingly, silvery voices. The second wonder was that the blackness overhead, all at once, was blazing with stars."