Super Tuesday: A Long Way From 1144

So. I'm trying with all my might not to watch the Presidential race but every time I turn off the tube I realize that I kinda miss the bickering.
The analysts are analyzing the analysts who are analyzing the analysts. I haven't seen this much drama since Rachel Crow fell down on the XFactor stage. With the exception of President Obama's predictable press conference today, all is well in the pundit ratings war. It's a reality show without the hot tubs or sky diving.  And let's talk about the sudden urge to chant and grunt in this country. We are laboriously electing the future leader of the free world, not watching a 3-point shooter at the free throw line. In the middle of Santorum's speech in the school gymnasium one could hear no less than five rousing Jerry Springer chants at intervals of every ten words or so. Post-game on. "Woot Woot" (sp??) as they say.

Where are the pom poms?

It may be against his religion.

Tonight I listened to Romney declare that he would "get" this nomination, Congressman Paul kindly introduce his wife and lay out a plan to exterminate the Federal Reserve, Newt Gingrich played the fiddle in Georgia and Santorum harped on and on about gold and silver medaled health scares. All but Dr. Paul were introduced as the next president of the United States. This IS a reality show.

I wish they'd make up their minds.
Or at least change the channel.

I don't mean to trivialize.
I intend to trivialize.
Because in the end one of them will chose another one of them to be a running mate and I will realize I should have been watching the Disney channel all this time.... unless Sara Palin loses her television show. And here you have a pencil skirt writing politics??!  I pretend to know what I'm talking about and feel bad about that sometimes until I realize that all four of them pretend the same thing. Sometimes. We all do when duty calls for necessity. Did you get that? And if ever a day called for Valium duty and necessity, this is it.


**P.S. This is Romney's Super Tuesday youtube url. He won't allow the evil embedding. **  Click here for the secret victory speech. Shhhh!


  It's not that I'm really addicted to political speeches and campaign rhetoric or that I even LIKE listening to stumps talk...it's just that I am totally fascinated with this entire process. One minute they're patting each other on the back in the Green Room. The next they're slinging names and dodging Rush.  I wish I could take this spectacle a bit more seriously but I just can't. Here it is March 2012 and I must say that none of the front runners here entertain a withering wisp of my potential vote. I can't envision any of them in the Oval Office.  None. Nada. Not one.

But I am learning more about each candidate in the early stages of this horse race by simply watching them fall all over each other. Verbally, of course. Let's be civil, shall we?

**rolls eyes**

I forgot where I was for a moment.

Like any typical ringside fan eating Cheetos in bed, I find my mind wandering to the color of Mrs. Gingrich's pretty suit and hoping it matches her husband's tie.  I want to know if her pearls are real. Come on, now. You think that's important too, don't you? If we're gonna smash Romney for owning 10,000 Cadillacs we have to pontificate the pearls. Will Rick Santorum suddenly break out in babbling prayer in a fit of euphoria? Is the world ready for that? If we're gonna sermonize contraceptive Catholicism we have to give equal time to all manner of churchdom. It says so in the Constitution. Can Dr. Paul keep his optimistic smile in the face of dwindling delegates and still come out swinging 'til the end? I hope so. He has won my respect for stick-to-itiveness and has earned 35 hard-won delegates; but C-span left him off the interactive map of states. How rude. How much money has the Romney family and Donald Trump spent to send Mitt to Pennsylvania Avenue? How many nations would that feed? Who will be the next right to exit stage left? And which one will trip over some closet skeleton on the way out... Why does Santorum's wife remind me of my 1st grade teacher???? What did they all have for dinner tonight? Did they say grace to save face? And was there room for dessert? Or just the bitter taste of stump water....

I'll keep looking for that dark horse.

At this point I'd settle for Mr. Ed.
At least he could talk with his mouth closed.