"You'd like our polling place," he said. "We have a disco ball."
"Um, a disco ball?"
"It's in the basement of a church's social hall, and the church hires the room out for a lot of quinceanera parties--you know, sweet fifteen parties--for the various local Hispanic communities. Hence, disco ball."
I know my father. "You find excuses to turn it on during elections, don't you."
"Of course! It's the hundredth voter of the day--quick, turn on the disco ball! It's the voter's birthday--disco ball! And for closing, naturally."
Suddenly I envision my dad egging on the poll watchers to join him in a chorus of Donna Summer's "Last Dance."
And now I can't help thinking, I know why Florida had so many irregularities in 2000, and Ohio in 2004. What was their problem? Not Enough Disco. We can try to understand the New York Times's effect on man, but I remember what Emma Goldman told the anarchists--If I can't dance, I want no part in your revolution.