INT. KITCHEN, CHICAGO – NIGHT

…where a father sits with his daughter, who is finishing her chicken and French fries.

Daughter: Why can’t a girl marry another girl?

Father: What do you mean?

Daughter: It’s illegal, right?

Father: Where did you get that?

Daughter: You were talking about it this afternoon. With your friends. About something that happened in California. You said ‘illegal’.

Father: Its– Its complicated, but if you decided you wanted to be with another girl… you could. Right now, where we live… it just wouldn’t be called marriage.

Daughter: What would it be called?

Father: A civil union.

Daughter: A civil “what”?

Father: Union.

Long pause, the daughter pushing chicken around her plate.

Daughter: I don’t get it.

Father: Its– Its like a marriage, but it can’t be called marriage…

Daughter: …because that’s illegal and illegal is bad.

So, I’m in my home town of Chicago visiting family an accompanying my wife Holly on a little mini tour (she’s playing at Martyr’s tomorrow night at 7PM if any of y’all are looking for an evening of rootsy-funky-Milfy-Americana) and I’ve never seen this city more electric and alive.

Smiles and happy faces behind every counter and getting off every bus.

Today, while Holly was rehearsing, my mother, brother and I decided to take the kids to The Museum of Science and Industry, so we drove down to Hyde Park… found a spot for the car… located the ticket desk… and that’s where the “President-Elect Barack Obama effect” REARED its ugly head.

In response to the ever-reasonable Proposition 8 in California, which restored TRADITIONAL marriage as it has been defined for thousands of years (and was mostly funded by the Mormon Church of Latter Day Saints), I hereby call upon the gay community to promote the equally reasonable and Jesusesque “Proposition P”, which would restore TRADITIONAL prophets, as THEY have been defined for thousands of years.

Proposition P, or The Defense of Religious Leaders Who Did Not Wear Magical Underwear, would change the California constitution so that only prophets identified BEFORE 1820 would be recognized.

Senator Obama is up folks.

Up! Up! Up!

By 12 points up, which I don’t think can REALLY be is right, but I’m just too happy to think about it.

Now…

According to the website 538.com there is now a 98.1% chance that Senator Barack Obama will become the next President of the United States of America as compared to a 1.9% chance that Senator John McCain will emerge victorious in tomorrow’s national election.

To put that into perspective, there is also a 1.9% chance that, tomorrow, you will spontaneously start to secrete massive quantities of pure maple syrup from your sweat glands, allowing you retire from your job in order to finance that cozy bed-and-breakfast in the Hamptons.

Similarly, there is a 1.9% chance…

John McCain’s hero and role model in the closing days of the election is “Joe The Plumber”.

Not some soldier in Iraq or a pull-yourself-up-by-your bootstraps small businessperson, but a guy whose singular distinction is being too stupid to comprehend the ramifications of the bottom line of his tax forms.

But fine, Joe the Plumber is McCain’s guy… his personal closing argument.

MY guy in these last few days, is someone I’ve never ever met… whose name I don’t even know… but who I will keep in mind for every second of these last seventy-two hours…

A two dollar umbrella.

Or a few of those ratty old scarves.

Or a twelve pack of water or a dozen granola bars or maybe even your guitar.

Oh… oh… that ratty lawn chair that you haven’t used in ten years.

Y’know… the one that acted as a “sofa” in your college apartment.

These odd objects could be the difference between just “victory” and a mandate… between fifty-nine seats and a filibuster-proof majority… between winning and, what do the kids call it these days?

Drinking their milkshake?

I went to a Halloween party at the home of one of the few Venice, California Republicans I know.

I’d assumed up until today that he was a casual, take-em-or-leave-em fiscal conservative types, but that assumption was proven wrong when he turned and said:

“So, I got a one-on-one sit down with John McCain back in June…”

So, I decided to bike my four year old son, Truman, to school this morning.

We’ve just gotten one of those trail behind extensions that turns my beach cruiser into a double-bike.

Well, really, TRUMAN’S double bike.

“That’s MY double bike,” he’ll tell anyone who will listen.

I’m… apparently… little more than the hired sherpa.

Anyway, we set out to riding and not a minute into the trip… “THERE’S BARACK OBAMA!”

Please indulge a family story…

“FIFTEEN DAYS is an eternity in politics. Anything can happen. So, you’d better stay watching our riveting, moment to moment analysis, because, considering the fact that all of human evolution occurred in under fifteen days (see scientifically vetted chart to the right) it is absolutely possible for John McCain, even with a huge financial disadvantage, to flip Democratic leads in Colorado, Florida, and North Carolina while simultaneously finding ways to salvage Nevada, Ohio, Missouri, Montana and North Dakota.

Hey, hey. What are you doing? Don’t flip to Cinemax…”

Don’t blame conservatism.

We did everything right, with the exception of ever trusting Colin Powell, who we never REALLY liked because we knew from the beginning that he wasn’t one of us and shouldn’t be listened to.

He was the one who screwed up that whole Katrina fiasco and he suggested the “Mission Accomplished” banner and if you check the video of Dick Cheney saying, “last” throes” you’ll realize that Colin Powell had his hand in the Vice President’s “puppet hole” and was manipulating what he sent.

See, Colin Powell…