I shed a few tears watching the convention tonight.
Hope truly springs eternal. A year ago I would have been optimistic, but we live and we learn. I hear the conversations at work. Teamsters. Fat truckers whose bread and butter has come down the pipe along Democratic fortunes.
For some reason these old fat bastards have slowly become Republicans.
Even in California, which Obama will no doubt carry, Teamster Republicans hold court in the break room.
“I don’t think you can trust him.”
The great fear of the mud people will rear it’s ugly head and flush John Mccain into the White House. It’s nothing more complicated than that. A dark, scary face will provide nightmares across America.
The Grandpa party will reign.
I’ve seen too much of human behaviour.
I will not care (much).
