musing on locality

The candidate for local register of deeds left a message on my phone yesterday. He informed me that the republican primary for our county offices is fast approaching. I promptly deleted his message because a) he failed to leave his name, b) I am not a registered republican (or a registered anything in case inquiring minds want to know), and c) what a register of deeds does remains something of a mystery to me. The call exited my mind in the same space of time it takes to hit number seven on the keypad but it returned when I noticed campaign signs sprouting like fungi in the yards of all my neigbors. Apparently we are in the midst of a bitter race for everything from school board superintendant to chief of waste disposal. Which led me to the realization that though I can name the heads of state of a fairish number of countries I haven't the slightest idea who the mayor of my town is. Moreover, I don't even know the names of half the families that live on my block. And while I occasionally lie awake at night worrying about whether the polar ice caps really are melting, I've never even thought about calling the city planning office to tell them that a pedestrian walking bridge across the thoroughfare between my neigborhood and school would improve our average local life expectancy. Not being able to roll out of bed, plug in my computer and find information about local waste disposal candidates on the BBC website explains some of my ignorance but doesn't excuse my lack of interest. The fact is I live, eat, breathe, sleep and commune with my fellow human beings in this very local locale and whether or not the zoning board approves a wal-mart on the current location of my favorite farmers market should be a matter of some concern. Which all is to say that I'm thinking about voting in our local elections, if I can find the downtown civic center.