field of purple penstemon

Presidential primary politics have gone on too long. By the time the next President is seated, this campaign will have gone on for about 2 years. It isn't a Congressional seat, it's the Oval Office. And the fallout from all this, despite the interest and knowledge that at least for the first time in our history, either a woman or an African American will be the nominee of the Democratic Party, if not the next President, is boredom. Folks are bored. They are tired. And they are weary of the process. Two years? Most wars don't last that long.

It's spring. Finally. People are getting outside, into the garden. Baseball season is starting to heat up. Soccer practice is in full swing. Families are ready to get on with the business of things that seem to matter more to them than 30 second commercial spots that proclaim jargon such as, "Tough on terror; soft on the family farm." Voters are tired of the nonsense, and most of what passes for sound bites and commercials is nonsense. They are tired of guilt by association, closet racism, mindless hijinks masquerading as working class insight. I'd never vote for McGruff the Crime Dog, but of all the candidates he's the one I'd most like to trade shots with. Why? He's the one most likely to snap. And that, friends, is more like a middle class moment than any candidate will ever bring to light during a Sunday morning roundtable hosted by piddling pundits of pandering postulates.

Images.
Top. Purple penstemon.
Bottom. Royal Purple smoke bush and fire engine azalea.