Every day there's something new to remind us that Nov. 2 is right around the corner. Like the other day, our sample ballots arrived—one for me and one for my youngest son.

I was so glad to see his ballot stuffed between his current issues of Sports Illustrated and Maxim, because in the 2000 election he didn't get one. Even though he was of legal voting age, he didn't see the need to register.

At the time he was attending West Valley College, and thanks to on-campus registration, he was able to sign up in time for the election. Now he's at San José State University and still a full-fledged member of the voting population. And I'd like to think that our conversation in the fall of 2000 had something to do with it. It went something like this:

I had pulled the sample ballots out of the mailbox that afternoon, and there was one for our, one for my wife and one for my oldest son. But I was dismayed to find no ballot for the 18-year-old.

"Hey, have you registered to vote yet?" I asked the teen-ager when he arrived home that night.

"Nah," he said, adding in a woeful attempt to explain, "I haven't had the time."

"Whadaya mean you haven't had the time?" I exclaimed. "You can talk on the phone all night, you can spend hours playing some stupid video game, and you can sit around all night watching some corny wrestling show on TV. But you don't have time to register to vote?"

"Well, no," he said.

"Right," I snapped. "It only takes about five minutes. You take longer than that to comb your hair in the morning."

"Uh, well I'm not sure where to go," he said, trying to justify his lack of civic responsibility.

"Well, that's easy enough," I explained. "You can register at the library, and I'm sure you can register at school. I've even seen folks registering people in front of supermarkets. Heck, take a couple of minutes away from those chat rooms of yours, and you can register while you're on-line."

"Oh, well ... it's too late now," he said, trying to dismiss the whole thing.

"Wrong!" I said. "You can register up to Oct. 18."

"Well, I guess I just never thought it was all that important," he admitted.

Not all that important? Was this my son talking to me? This is his first election, his first chance to vote ... and he's too apathetic to even register? Where had I gone wrong?

But I wasn't about to lose my temper. I would deal with this in a mature, rational manner, and appeal to his sense of patriotism.

"Don't you understand that our right to vote is the very backbone of our democratic society?" I explained with all of the Jeffersonian eloquence I could muster. "And if you don't exercise that right, well then you're not participating in the process that men and women have ... "

"OK, enough!" he cried, interrupting me just moments before I broke into a chorus of God Bless America .

"So, are you going to register to vote?" I asked eagerly.

"I don't know," he muttered.

"Well, if you don't I'm taking your car away," I threatened.

"Fine, I'll register tomorrow."

I knew I could get through to him if I just remained rational and mature.

In an attempt to keep me from going into some "give me liberty or give me death" speech, he started to make a little political small talk.

"So, who was your favorite president anyway?" he asked.

"Well, I'm sort of a Truman fan," I explained. "You know, he was the old the-buck-stops-here-tell-it-like-it-is kind of guy."

"So did you vote for him?" he asked.

"Of course not," I said with a hearty laugh. "Harry S. Truman ran for president in 1948 against Thomas Dewey."

"Then you voted for Dewey?"

"Very funny," I said. "No, the first time I was eligible to vote, I voted for Richard M. Nixon."

"You mean, you didn't vote for JFK?" he asked.

"Well, at the time very few sixth graders were allowed to vote in a presidential election," I said as sarcastically as I could. "You know, you're quite the wise guy for someone who isn't even registered to vote. I'll have you know my first election was in 1972, and I voted for Nixon when he ran against McGovern."

"I can't believe you voted for Nixon!" he said.

"Well, I'm not all that proud of it, but it seemed like a good idea at the time," I said. "Anyway, that's not important. The important thing is that you register to vote in time for the November election."

And he did. You see, he had a lot riding on it!

Want to talk? Give me a call at 408.354.3110, or write to dsparrer@svcn.com.

THERE'S STILL TIME TO REGISTER

Don't be fooled by the sign in the window of Antiquarium Antiques at 98 W. Main St. That poster encouraging citizens to register to vote is not a relic from the Truman-Dewey era of 1948—it's real.

Shirley Henderson, owner of the Antiquarium, is an official registrar. And while you could certainly pick up a campaign button for JFK, Ronald Reagan or even Truman's run for the White House (as I did last year) and other political memorabilia, you can also register to vote in time for the 2004 election.

But hurry. If you're not registered yet, you must do so by Oct. 18. So stop by and see Shirley so that she can sign you up in time to vote for the Los Gatos Town Council, the West Valley College bond measure, the town clerk ... and, oh yeah, the President of the United States.

Who am I supporting for president? Well, personally, "I Like Ike!" And you can probably find his campaign button at the Antiquarium, too.

Want to talk? Call me at 408.354.3110, ext. 31, or drop me a note at dsparrer@svcn.com.