Voting in the Heartland: Mr. Magoo calls me "Sir"

The skies were bright yesterday in Heartland.  Warm air filled my lungs, caffeine buzzed in my brain and my thoughts were clear and determined as I walked into the building to vote.

Until someone said, “Here’s your ballot, Sir.”

Granted, the man behind the table was 100 years old, with lenses as thick as glass block, but sheesh, what an insult!  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his table-mate elbow him--a spring chicken compared to Mr. Magoo’s grandfather who wronged me--but it was too late.  Damage done.  

So it's no wonder I was miffed by the time I read the following referendum:

Should the Wisconsin Constitution be amended to prohibit any further transfers or lapses from the segregated transportation fund?”

WHAT?? I am a writer, and a grumpy one now, so all I want to do is edit this confusing nonsense.  Here’s my Heidi version:  

Do you want to change the Wisconsin Constitution to prevent politicians from robbing Peter to pay Paul?  YES  or  NO

Boom!  Done!  Why do they have to write it in such tricky language?  Shouldn’t something that needs a vote be crystal clear?  Are they doing it on purpose so the average person just says, “Oh, the HELL with it and votes, “NO”?”  If I were a sneaky politician, that’s exactly what I’d do. 

But, actually, right now I care a lot more about being called a man than I do about difficult-to-understand political mumbo-gumbo.  

That cat called me “SIR!”  

I propose the following voter amendment referendum:

Do you want to change the voting volunteer rulebook to ask people with negligible eyesight to take volunteer jobs that don’t require sexing people?  YES  or  NO

Or better yet:

Would you like to see people who DO use the wrong gender assigning word to drop through a trap door (onto something soft—I’m not completely heartless)?

It’s not like I’m a dog who doesn’t care if you call it a “he” or a “she.” 

At least I hope they don’t care, because I make that mistake all the time.