It’s been an interesting weekend of courtship. No, make that stalking. If I called a strange woman as many times as two of these candidates called me, I’d be looking at a restraining order, if not arrest. And they aren’t really courting either. Courtship is about revealing how wonderful you are while telling her how wonderful she is, so that she will conclude that we are even more wonderful. But these guys don’t talk about me. They barely talk about themselves. It’s Ricky and Willy fighting over the same girl. Only it’s not that either; it’s 2 cheerleaders stabbing each other in the back over the high school quarterback. “Muffy’s a stuck-up prep-school bitch!” “Yeah, well, that Catholic girl Ricki doesn’t put out, and if she did, she’d get an abortion.”
I note that my guy has not robocalled me ONCE (though all the girls are wearing his ring) nor has the captain of the high school debate team. My wife made it into a running joke. “Oh, I don’t know WHO to vote for! Won’t somebody please tell me!”, notwithstanding that she’s wearing Catholic Girl’s ring in the front yard. I guess robocalling is too pricey for lower offices, as we haven’t gotten any others. We have, however, gotten enough Andrew Manning for State Central Committee mailings to wallpaper the bathroom.
And speaking of rings: Is Willard too good for yard signs, or are all his supporters ashamed? I haven’t seen one. And it’s not like he can’t afford them. Not sure I’ve seen more than one Newt sign either. Ron Paul is definitely the winner of the yard sign war; too bad that doesn’t translate into votes.
Well, in 36 hours it will all be over except for the punditry, and we’ll be undisturbed except for the occasional inquiry about various stepchildrens’ debts.