Johnny Mac has got 'em right where he wants 'em.
Twenty days out, fourteen points down, not a single friend he can count on.
He's a wily one, let there be no doubt.
One rumor out there is that he'll endorse Obama tonight, divorce Cindy and announce his plans to move to Connecticut and marry Joe Lieberman.
Another rumor is that he'll use some old ju-jitsu on Obama during the ritual handshake at the top of the debate, wrestle him to the floor and make a citizen's arrest right there.
And then divorce Cindy, move to Connecticut and marry Joe Lieberman.
You see? He's got everyone guessing.
I'll watch tonight with expectations lowered down to the floor. It's a little dispiriting to watch Senator O pull away like your grandmother driving a trailer down the highway: cautious, looking in every direction, smiling and waving back at you, not entirely sure where she's going as she disappears around the bend.
But when you're up, you just try to run out the clock, that's Politics 101.
Ann brought down young Rose/Adam yesterday, proving that the Tuesday Morning Music Quiz is twice as tough as the old MMMQ.
Papa Lacy shouts out to the Texas crowd at the top of the very strange and unsatisfying "Lynyrd Skynyrd Live". It actually ends with Lonnie or Donnie or Johnnie telling the audience that only one man can sing Freebird, and as he's dead, no one is going to sing it tonight. Then he tells the crowd to sing it, and they play every note, with the Dallas mob howling in the background.
I'm listening to this, flying down the dark road a few nights ago, and I say to McGee,
"Y'know, this is kind of cool to listen to."
And she pauses, eyes the road, eases into the passing lane and says,
No prizes, booby or otherwise were promised yesterday, so Ann and Rose get a free pass and a strong admonition to bone up on their Southern rock, classic or otherwise.
I grew up in St. Louis, after all.