Debate This

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For the first time in my adult life I blew off the presidential and vice-presidential debates.

I didn't want to hear word one.

Both guys will help the middle and the poor and fight against disease and make sure there are no terrorists.

Each will eliminate the national debt in one months time. Whatever you want, that's what they'll say.

And they will also say, "By the way, the other guy sucks ass and may or may not be a criminal, a Muslim or just a fat rich cat who doesn't care."

I'm glad I missed 'em.

In fact, if you told me I could be granted one wish:

The Yankees could win it all or I could have the guy I want for president. I know what I would choose.

The election means that little to me.

And it really shouldn't should it?

I should feel the anger and the angst. I should chase away the Doom and Gloom with Hope and Faith.

(By the way the new Stones song is called Doom and Gloom - thanks for reminding me Corinne - it's better than the debates. Mick sounds good in full voice).

And there are people out there trying to bait me into debating them about which guy is good and which guy is bad.

"Your vote counts!"

Yeah, my vote might count but it can be cancelled by a guy who votes the other way despite not knowing who or what anything is about. There are people in this country that can't find their own home state on a map.

"We are for the middle class!"

No one is for the middle class. That's the bottom line. I'm waiting for the profits to trickle down. I'm waiting for the free shit to trickle up.

Ain't gonna' happen.

So, here I sit in a blue state that has already handed over their electoral votes. Taxes will go up. Deductions will go down. My kids will continue to eat.

Hopefully.

And the Yankees will keep me up past midnight, reading the Twitter feed about the experts calling out about who won or lost a debate.

As if they were recapping a baseball game.

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