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July 14, 1997… I walked into an NC DMV and got my no-longer-a-kid license. The one with facial hair, a stamp that didn’t peg me for being under 18 and reflecting a height that reflected my last adolescent growth spurt. I also registered to vote. In the interceding 23 years, I have not missed one single opportunity to inform myself and vote in every single election. I have avoided being arrested for or convicted of anything that would jeopardize my right to vote. I avoided being less than informed on issues that would drive who I should vote for, even in a land before ubiquitous internetting and unsolicited (or solicited!) text messaging. Every first Tuesday after the first Monday of every November, I got my ass up and went and participated. When Early Voting became a thing in my mid-to-late 20s, I chose a favorite polling location – one alternative one now – and have not missed an opportunity to vote early since. ...