Super Duper Tuesday has come and gone. The candidate from the second freakiest cult has withdrawn, leaving the Republicans with an obvious front-runner. The Democrats are left with the wife of a philandering, but popular formal president and a man with Kennedy’s charisma but without his amorality. The choice should be obvious, but the economic upturn at the end of the twentieth century has left a fond memory of the Clinton occupancy of the White House.
I do not get to vote, but when the field was open I would have supported Bill Richardson or Edwards. Now, there is no doubt that Barrack Obama is the least worst of what is left. That may sound like damming with faint phrase, but Obama is one of the best three candidates in my lifetime. (Bonus points for identifying the two others who make that top three.)
In the UK, people go to the polls in schools and village halls. I can still recall having days at home in 1974, while we had two General Elections in the same year. Here in the US, any building seems to be a possible venue. My Mother-In-Law voted in a BBQ shack that despite my love of ribs I have never visited.
Double bonus points for anyone who can tell me what is meant by “Collared Greens”
