As an Oregonian, I have cast my ballot by mail for the last thirty years. That’s how we do it around here. I sorta miss trudging to the polling place in the pouring rain to stand behind that little curtain, so reminiscent of a hospital gown that opens in the back. There’s a certain thrill in a celebration of civic spirit and I’ve always been fond of the ladies volunteering at the card tables who check off my name.

But having the ballot in front of you on your kitchen counter for three weeks is way better. I’m not blindsided by the things I didn’t know were going to be on the ballot. I can study in convenient increments. Also, I vote in fuzzy slippers. It works great.

I was not prepared for the ballot that showed up in my mail this time. It had a Jack-in-the-box vibe to it. Slit that envelope open and it was like launching a confetti cannon. Bubbles everywhere!

The problem involved two new developments. Last year we voters approved a new form of city government. Rather than one mayor and four commissioners, we are to have twelve council members, three from each of four new districts. The idea was that the concerns of the less-endowed sections of Portland were not being fairly addressed, or something, and the way to rectify that was to convene a herd of people plus one person who sets up the whiteboard and brings the donuts and then shit would git done. That being the premise, I see no reason we shouldn’t elect, like, twenty reps per district, or create twelve districts and dilute that power 36 ways. I believe I was the Portlander who didn’t vote for this setup, but there might have been another crank out there too. Anyway, it’s happening.

But that’s not all. The other thing we decided on last year is ranked-choice voting. One of the things you can do with ranked-choice voting is put a check mark down for your actual favorite candidate, not just the one you have to vote for to keep the truly awful candidate from winning. In our case, we get to rank six candidates, and they’re all put into a giant beaker and shaken up, and a precipitate will slide to the bottom, and the gassy bits will escape out the top end, and we’re left with a nice clear solution to pour into office. I did vote for that. I believe I visualized something on the order of picking the best three out of five, or something. Kind of fun.

But my ballot exploded all over the kitchen counter. Are there five people running for mayor and we get to pick one? Oh no. Nineteen. Pick six, in order. For my three district councilors? Twenty-two. Pick six. In order. The ballot looks like one of those games in the Fun Section of the newspaper and if you fill it out right, it makes a picture of a chicken.

We probably can’t go far wrong. I mean, this is Portland. We warm our homeless population with dumpster fires during BLM marches. We streamline government by putting the transgender surgery unit in the same building as the fentanyl distribution center. So for mayor, we have 18 essentially compassionate sorts and one asshole. All of them aim to eliminate homelessness, only one of them by shooting people in their tents. We have a stripper. A winemaker. A guy who’s been living in a shack under a bridge for the last ten years. The inventor of a micro flotation device that goes in your swimsuit. It’s all good. But even when I get them narrowed down to six, in order, there’s a problem. I need a straight-edge to fill in my bubbles. Otherwise I’m one diopter of astigmatism away from elevating an asshole to public office.

This is just the sort of mess that makes me take a shortcut through the rest of the ballot by filling in the Democrat bubble over the Republican one without even checking the names.

That’s not true. It’s a whole different mess that makes me do that.