Sitting at my desk on Sunday, I can’t tell you who will win the presidential election. If you spent time reading the newspapers, watching the paid pundits on the morning chat shows, and scrolled through the various sites online, you couldn’t predict the eventual outcome either. Nobody, but nooobody can.

We are on the cusp of an election eve like none other. The polls tell us it is a tie. The last election led to an insurrection. This one could be worse, sayeth some of the so-called experts. No matter who is named the winner after Tuesday’s vote, you can bet lawyers on both sides will crank up their Sunday-best pettifogging arguments to convince the courts that their clients (who are fitting the bill) deserves to move into the White House, the House and the Senate. No hanging chads this time, but they will surely find some tiny excuse in an attempt to convince a friendly judge to stick it to the other side.

The lawyers will also be sharpening their pens to inflate their time sheets making sure they are paid for every eighth of an hour of claimed toil.

The lawyers' bills will be sent to the fat cats with fat wallets who think they can buy an election by writing a check to this shadow committee or that slick-talking “consultant.” Ironically, many supporters on both sides tell us it is a mortal sin to rely on computerized counting voting machines. Only paper ballots can be trusted, they say.

Old-time pols, both urban and rural, laugh at this statement. They remember when both sides would steal paper ballots and send them up in smoke. I remember one old duffer who admitted in the 1940 election, his pals stole about 10,000 ballots, burned them, and yet they still lost the election. “Damn that Roosevelt,” he said.

Burning paper ballots led to the use of steel and iron voting machines. They used a series of levers and tabs to count your vote. They were heavy and awkward to move around. The old duffer explained that was on purpose. It takes ten men and a boy to move one of these machines around, making them tougher to steal. That is the idea, he told me. Arguments over election results, including fist fights and slick deals were not unusual in the early days of our Republic.

Here in the Great State of Maine, we once saw the usual squabbles turn into a riot. It was 1879. The Republicans had ruled the roost for years until times got hard and a third party known as Green backers got in bed with the Democrats and upset the apple cart.

When no gubernatorial candidate got the legally required majority, the law said the state senate should decide who won. Now, the Republicans had a seven vote majority in the Senate, but the Greenback/Democrats, dubbed Fusionites, examined the votes for the GOP legislators and, surprise, they found enough technicalities to shift the power to their side. That triggered a full blown scramble with armed men being locked out of the statehouse, dual candidates claiming the governorship, and both sides turned to Joshua Chamberlain, the Civil War hero and a former governor.

There were great rumblings of armed conflict and Gen. Chamberlain stood his ground and dared them to shoot him.

In the end, the Maine Supreme Judicial Court ruled in favor of the Republicans and their candidate became governor.

This is the abridged version of this political hoorah. It is an interesting tale, one that could not be detailed in the 800 words that Boothbay Register/Wiscasset Newspaper Editor Kevin Burnham allows me to write each week.

I encourage you to go to the history books, or Mr. Google, to check out the Great Maine State Riot of 1880. You will find a near direct link to the current election squabbles. Chamberlain later said his involvement in the 1880 election was his greatest contribution to the state.

Meanwhile, as we all have had way too much political news in recent weeks with more likely to come in the coming days, let me turn to another topic.

Last summer I presided over an unfortunate meeting of my car and the garage. Last week, the great pros of Wiscasset’s Pro Body Works fixed her up. Their final act was to wash her (and collect the check). But when I got in her driver’s seat, I noticed a little gold earring in a cup holder. The nice woman who cleaned the car told me she found it under the seat. It was the earring my late bride misplaced three years ago. Many thanks to the skilled PBW body shop techs and very honest car wash lady who found the ring and returned it to me. You just made my day.