I hate instant analysis. It’s impossible to write about history while you’re still sitting on your bar stool dribbling Jameson’s down your belly.  That’s why I waited more than a week to share my thoughts about the debate defeat of Barack Obama at the hands of the brilliant, charming, wiley Mitt Romney. (More)

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As we taxied to the gate one hour late (“someone in Memphis finally answered the phone”) I asked my young seat mate if he was coming home to Peoria.  He said no, he was flying in from Salt Lake City to make a speech.  I said hey, that’s Romney country.  He said no, I’m a Mormon and trust me, everybody in our church despises Romney, he’s such a jerk. (More)

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I wish we could switch to “America the Beautiful” as our National Anthem and that  fireworks were allowed only in South Carolina.  I wish people would stop saying “this economy, this country, this President” and go back to saying “OUR economy, OUR country and OUR President” (dudes, we have only one of each, and they all belong to all of us).  I wish the media would restore the 4th estate’s parenthetical prism, i.e., “Rep. Issa, who in the 1970s was twice arrested for auto theft, today accused Attorney General Eric Holder of lying to Congress.”  I wish Jerry Sandusky would just shut up.  I wish for Eric Cantor a case of hives. (More)

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President Obama didn’t just exit his self-imposed closet yesterday, he rattled all the shelves on the way out.  And you could feel the ground move.

 I had just driven back from Annapolis after visiting my friend Joe in a rehab center where he’s struggling courageously to recover from pioneering surgery, the severity of which the rest of us can imagine only in a nightmare of the most abject kind. (More)

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Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know: I told you I wasn’t writing anything about the looney Republican primaries. But then Newt finished up in Florida charging Obama with defunding Kosher meals for Jewish nursing home patients, Mitt was moved to sing “America the Beautiful” obscenely off-key, and we may have finally discovered a sure-fire way of curing the maldistribution of wealth in our country.

Honestly, Newt Gingrich could screw up a free lunch — you give him a free bowl of grits and he chokes on it.  And Mitt Romney? (More)

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Max and I are taking a romp in Central Park this morning when we overhear a super-spandexed lady of a certain age chatting up a much younger man walking three dogs.  “The first act was stunning and the stage went dark and there was, you know, like a long pause.  Then suddenly a rich baritone voice boomed out from backstage, ‘Occupy Wall Street!’ The audience loved it, but I don’t think it was actually part of the play.”  I give her a thumbs up and Max breaks into a dog-grin.   Is this a great city or what? (More)

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I’ve been looking for God for a long time, so far finding only ephemeral shards of him or her.  But I’ve always been a non-believer who believes in believers and even in some of their beliefs.  I’m making an exception for Herman Cain. (More)

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