in the suddenly interesting-as-never-before-to-the-major-parties-with-its-pathetic-five-elecoral-votes swing state of Nevada (We get Bill Clinton on Friday and Cheney on Monday. I've never felt so loved, even though I know they'll throw us over like the cheap whore we are as soon as we put out.) where I have cast my votes on a touch-screen voting machine for John Kerry, John Edwards, Harry Reid, Shelley Berkley, and a whole bunch of "none of the above" on the ballots. (We get "none of the above" as an option here. Some years, he wins.)
My polling place was at the local Safeway affiliate, where you can also buy hard liquor and play video poker. I was not challenged, the paper copy of my ballot said what it should say, and there were lines out the door when the polls opened at nine AM.
As I was driving home, the Thunderbirds flew over, wingtip to wingtip. They're still doing passes over the house. I choose to interpret this as a positive omen.