What makes a President?
We demand a flood of delegates. 10. 15. 30. 50!
We get a steady trickle. 2, 5, maybe 7 at the most.
We turn blue in the face, yelling and screaming and panicking.
“Idiots!”… “Racists!”… “Irrelevant, fucking, toothless morons!”
We get silence. Probably a post-it note on dry-erase board.
“Consider speech. Maybe early August? Lets discuss.”
We rush to the shed for the pitchforks and the torches.
“Get her out! Doesn’t she see what she’s doing! Who the hell does she think she–”
We get brevity and poetry:
Senator Clinton has shattered myths and broken barriers and changed the America in which my daughters and yours will come of age.
We’re sure every slight is Mamet:
“Fuck! Fuck! Shit and fuck!”
We get the play that cannot be named in response:
“It is a tale… full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.”
We insist on a finite and definitive end. Super Tuesday. Ohio and Texas. Pennsylvania. Texas and Ohio. Tomorrow. And hour from now. ARE WE THERE YET!
We get a slow path through the woods, whose inevitable destination gradually reveals itself… the trees slowly thinning mile by mile. Wait… wait… look… up ahead there.
What makes a President?
Three words.
Sure and steady.
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“Toasted cheese sandwich” but it didn’t have the same ring.
a Lot!
tnx
sounds a LOT better than George W. Bush….
Sorry, I swore….I promised not to take his name in vain…
It is zeitgeist…and this too, shall pass…hopefully things will “improve” liberally.
wine/cheese/crackers or peanut butter sandwhich.
Jeff. Your good and funny and add a little perspective to this madness we call a primary. The end is in sight but we all have to wait for the pant suit lady to sing, and for someone to put a muzzle on Carville so he doesn’t bite the Judas’s once they declare. The Math I watched last night just didn’t add up no matter how you mixed it. Then came ‘the popular vote’ called the real vote because all votes count that left out caucuses and the voters, non Hillary, in MI and FL.They didn’t vote as they were told it wasn’t legit. Nice Math! Rove Math! So what’s with the supers? Where’s the DNC the referee’s?
For me it’s been more like this:
…and even now we still have to watch out for Alfred Molina.