I would have hoped the long driveway and isolated location of my home would have deterred solicitors but with the onset of the political season, nothing keeps the party knockers at bay.
Their standard opening line is always, “Are you registered to vote? Is your information updated? Can I leave you any pamphlets on how important it is to vote?” They are prepped to not offend anyone – you can’t tell right off the bat which candidate they’re stumping for. I imagine my unaffiliated status probably makes me a target and I agree it’s important to vote, support our country, etc., but in this particularly heated political climate, I’d rather face an Amway salesman.
In the last week I’ve had several political minions ring my doorbell and query me on my beliefs. I had a startling session with a 14-year-old girl who came to the door and questioned me what was most important on my voting agenda: The economy? Women’s rights? Abortion? Smelling a democrat in training, I was stumped. What could I say to this child who obviously hadn’t ever worried about making ends meeting with a low-paying job or worked side-by-side with a man whose doing the same job but is paid more than I am or wondered briefly if abortion was the answer to an unwanted pregnancy.
She mistook my hesitancy for a reluctance to donate to her (or her parent’s) politics and reassured me she wasn’t trying to get anyone to donate money. I had one response: “That’s good because you’re not getting any.”
Now I have nothing against kids trying to step out and be part of their community. Many local high school students support their school with fund-raisers and each year I buy a Lobo card from the boys on the Conifer High School football team. Each August they stand in front of the local grocery stores and hawk their mostly useless card to anyone who will come by. The ones who buy the cards believe in the politics of football, especially the yearly match-up between Conifer and Evergreen. Seems like if Conifer wants to win, they’d better sell a ton of cards; they lose the contest each year.
I’ve thought of ways to deter the solicitors from coming down the driveway. I don’t imagine “Beware of Dog” signs would do much good. I remember an episode of the Mary Tyler Moore show where Mary goes to visit a friend’s apartment and as she approached the door, aggressive barking erupted from the apartment next door. Turns out the old lady who lived there would bark wildly behind the door and channel her inner Rotweiller. It might be worth a try because it doesn’t seem any barmier than living with four cats.
In the end, I opted for a sign copied from my meter reading days. It was posted on a tall fence surrounding a little cottage that was located near Cherry Creek shopping center. The wave of concrete progress hadn’t layered over the little house yet and it stood as defiant as its owner. It left no doubt what the owner valued most. I remember the sign vividly and made my own version for the front door for this political season. Take a look: