The August elections are finally history here in Varmint County and as usual, election shenanigans captured more attention than the qualifications, or lack thereof, of any of the candidates.
As far as the various county races, Sheriff Hiram Potts cruised easily into a second term of office. Hiram's only competition came from a collection of constables, who were right unhappy with the way the Sheriff had treated the holders of this mostly honorary elected position.
When he first took office, Hiram called the county's seven constables into his office and told them he couldn't stop them from wearing badges and marking their automobiles, but he wouldn't allow any of them to carry a gun or make arrests unless they successfully passed the state's law enforcement academy course.
"Sheriff, that ain't fair. You know most of us aren't in good enough condition to pass that course," Third District Constable Hubert "Gummy" Aslinger protested.
"Gummy, how much do you weigh?" Hiram asked.
"Oh, 'bout 270 pounds, give or take," the portly constable replied.
"Doc Filstrup tells me he put you on a diet last week after your check-up.You tipped the scales at 315," Hiram observed. "How do you think you could run down a suspect?"
"He wouldn't run 'em down, he'd just fall on 'em," Fifth District Constable Carlyle Perkins cut in to a chorus of laughs.
"Carlyle, those eyeglasses you wear are thick as coke bottles. What's your eyesight?"
"I'm 20-20, Sheriff. I got perfect vision."
"Uh huh. If a suspect knocks off your glasses, could you see which way he runs? What is it without the Coke bottles?"
"It's 20-400, but I always carry a spare set of specs."
To make a long story short, Sheriff Potts left the county's constables on the side of the road, so to speak, which left them without the power to make arrests or issue traffic tickets and therefore no way to earn court fees. Six of the seven quickly registered as candidates for the office of High Sheriff.
That many opponents just guaranteed that Hiram would have no problem being reelected. He took two-thirds of the vote while the six opponents divided the remaining third between them. Rufus Starrett led the challengers. Rufus invested a couple of thousand bucks of his brother-in-law's money in some fancy billboards showing Rufus wearing a white ten-gallon hat, looking every bit like the hero from a B-Western movie.
"He thinks he's a cowboy, but he looks more the part of a rodeo clown," Rufus' cousin Pinkie snidely observed. That's about the most kind comment that could be made about the rest of the candidates for High Sheriff-i.e. that they were a bunch a clowns.
The big change in political winds in these parts may well be on the county commission, or the "county court" as most folks still call it.
For the past two years, Belinda Bandit, wife of retired Sheriff Smoky T. Bandit, has been the only female to break into the good ole boy's club. This year, the commission took a definite swing toward the gentler, kinder side with three more females joining Miz Belinda.
Leading the newcomers is my very own boss, the publisher of the War Whoop & Exterminator, Virginia Hamm, or as she prefers to be called for obvious reasons, Ginny. Bernice McCurdle, sister of Coach B.O. Snodgrass, was also elected, unseating longtime commissioner Hiram "Little Hair" Pennywell. Joining this group is Mabel McSwine, one of Lawyer Philbert McSwine's former wives.
"We now officially have a hen section on the county court," Mayor Clyde Filstrup Junior quipped during Doc Filstrup's weekly poker game. Belinda Bandit, who was in the next room visiting with the other wives, stuck her head in the door, gave everyone a cold smile and merely added, "Mayor, before long you'll be calling us 'the four horsewomen of the apocalypse.'"
As I stated earlier, the real focus of this year's elections had little to do with the various candidates or their qualifications for office. Instead it was the controversy that erupted over an age-old Varmint County tradition, politicking at the polls.
The flack really started several years ago when the county began early voting at the election commission office, which is adjacent to the county courthouse in downtown Lower Primroy.
A couple of dozen candidates began staking out territory in the courthouse parking lot, where they could press the flesh, kiss babies and hand out cards to everyone coming in to vote along with everyone coming in to pay taxes, get married or testify before a grand jury.
Election year slowly became a major Varmint County social function, as candidates and their supporters could visit with friends and relatives, trade goodnatured barbs between competing camps and often just swap tall tales and gossip.
But this year Squire Percy Huffaker from over in Pleasant View dropped a bombshell at the county commission meeting a month before early voting began. "I was down at the Mayor's office last election and saw a little old lady who had to walk three blocks to get to the courthouse to renew her car license plate. She couldn't get any closer because of all these politicians taking up the parking spaces with their tents and signs and pick-up trucks."
Percy then made a motion that candidates be banned from parking on courthouse property or erecting tents and canopies for shelter from sun and rain.
Six squires who are either not planning to campaign during early voting or not running for re-election all supported Percy's motion, while seven squires who are among the crowd usually campaigning at the courthouse opposed it.
Belinda Bandit was absent from the meeting, having rushed off to Doc Filstrup's clinic to attend to the birth of her first grandson and possible future County Sheriff, little Thaddeus Potts.
"The vote is 7 to 7, the motion fails," County Mayor Clyde Junior announced.
"Clyde, you can vote to break a tie," Percy insisted.
"The chair abstains," Clyde announced. "The motion still fails."
The matter was settled for the night but the debate was far from over. Poor Belinda Bandit was bombarded from both sides while the War Whoop & Exterminator conducted a street poll to determine the will of the people.
"I'm tired of being glad-handed by politicians every time I have to go to court," Jonas Hockmeyer commented.
"If you would pay yore child support you wouldn't have to come to court every month," former wife Tracy Hockmeyer cut in. "Personally I like meeting with some of my friends who are working for candidates."
"I don't want them to run the candidates off the parking lot," young Curley Perkins declared. "I make enough money from them running errands to Smiley's Tobacco Mercantile for cold drinks and junk food to buy a tank of gas every weekend."
Finally the next meeting of the county commission rolled around, just as early voting was set to begin. Percy again offered his motion to ban courthouse campaigning.
The debate between the parking lot politicians and their critics ran back and forth for half the night, when finally old Cletus McGill asked to address the commission. Cletus, of an indeterminate age somewhere between 80 and 100, is one of those characters who one always sees sitting in the audience at commission meetings, school board meetings and public hearings. Some say, in the old days when he was a young man, Cletus was also a regular at public hangings, but that has never been confirmed.
"The way I see it," Cletus began, "These candidates who restrict their politicking to the courthouse parking lot are doing us all a big favor. This way, if'n we want to talk politics, we know exactly where to go. If'n we want the derned politicians to leave us alone, we can jest stay away from the courthouse 'til the election is over."
"Leave them courthouse politicians alone. If you run 'em off from the courthouse, we'll have to put up with 'em down at Smiley's, at the pool hall, out at Mud Lake Marina when we're trying to catch fish. They won't be no avoiding them politicians if you turn 'em loose everywhere."
The loud applause coming from the standing-room crowd told the tale.
"Can't argue with that logic. I withdraw my second to Percy's motion," Hiram Pennywell announced.
"You can't withdraw your second. I withdraw the motion," Percy Huffaker countered, leaving Varmint County's election year social season undisturbed.
")