Columnist Susan Snyder: My vote is not for cell

Friday, Oct. 29, 2004 | 5:31 a.m.

Susan Snyder's column appears Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursday and Sundays. Reach her at snyder@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4082.

WEEKEND EDITION

October 30 - 31, 2004

Political messages stuck to the front door, stuffed in the mail box, clotting the answering machine, assaulting the cell phone -- they changed my mind, all right.

Not about how to vote, but when.

Horror of horrors, I voted early. And it wasn't because I think voting before the first Tuesday in November is a great idea. I don't.

But saying "I already voted" was the only nonprofane response left for the annoying political campaign volunteers who have been littering the streets and voice mail boxes of residents in battleground states.

If ever there was a reason to live in Utah, this campaign season has been it. The straw that broke this voter's back happened Tuesday evening. The late afternoon wind was out of the southwest, which meant I spent more than an hour of my bicycle commute home pedaling straight into it and uphill.

As I approached our house, I had to navigate around a minivan idling smack-dab in the middle of the road for no apparent reason. As I turned into the driveway, the motorist cruised backward up the street, taking her half out of the middle.

The Other greeted me with a handful of the day's political ads and news of six more rambling messages on our recorder. A woman emerged from the phantom van with a stack of fliers in her hand and started walking up our drive as he went back into the house.

"Oh, he went back inside," she said.

"Turn around and walk back down the driveway," I said to the canvasser. "We know who we're voting for. You're not going to change our minds, and there will be no more political ads littering our yard."

"What?" she said, astonished that we'd rebuff what she obviously considered a ditty bag of gold.

"No more ads," I enunciated slowly.

Does the candidate who called my cell phone as I perused bias tape in the fabric store, or the one whose wife called as I pedaled in rush-hour traffic on Hacienda Avenue actually think annoying people will secure votes?

I almost voted against them all just out of spite.

"Hi, I'm so-and-so calling for so-and-so who's running for ..."

"This is my cell phone," I said, balancing a gallon of milk with one hand and answering the phone in case I was to bring home something else.

"What?" the voice said.

"This is my cell phone. I am paying for this call, and you're not." Click.

Pollsters were even more fun to mess with. We don't tell strangers -- and sometimes not even each other -- for whom we're voting. So the poll-taker's call two weeks ago went something like this:

"Hello, this is so-and-so from the Republican Party. Are you going to vote?"

"Yes, I am going to vote."

"Are you voting for George W. Bush?"

"I said I am going to vote."

"Oh! Great! Thank you! Thank you!"

For what? No one said anything about voting for Bush. One of us simply affirmed the plan to vote. So much for the polls.

When my cell phone statement arrives this week, I am going to tally the minutes attributed to answering and deleting the political calls.

And those elected officials who promised to save me money if they win on Nov. 2 can start by paying my bill.