Nobama vs. McCain't

Yesterday the phone rang and The Man answered:

The Man: "Hello."

Caller: "Hi, I'm calling for John McCain..."

The Man: "He's not here right now."

And, he hung up the phone. Click!

Last night an Obama supporter called for me, but I told him I was just sitting down to dinner, "Can you call me back?" I asked.

We get a lot of unsolicited phone calls these days. All these people want to talk to us. They want to find out who we're going to vote for. I wish they'd just send me an email because I really don't like talking on the phone. I don't like to hear it ringing and I don't like running to grab the thing and stubbing my toe on the hutch and being interrupted to talk about things I don't feel like talking about at that particular moment. I'm usually busy and sometimes I'm taking a nap, but whatever the situation, I don't like strangers calling and acting like we're old buddies and they're so concerned with my health and whether or not I'm having a nice day.

And another thing I wonder about is what are we all going to do after the election is over? I mean, I think we should get ready for a big, national let-down funk. It'll be like after the World Series or the Superbowl only worse because THIS event has been going on FOR TWO YEARS. We won't know what to do with ourselves. As if things aren't depressing enough what with the economic situation and all, now we'll be sitting there in our naugahyde recliners wondering, "Well, what'll I do now?" "Isn't there some boring debate to try and stay awake through?" "I sure do miss those political ads!"

I think the pharmaceutical companies should get busy and come up with some new drug you can "ask your doctor about." Some new wonder pill in partisan colors, Red (for Republicans) and Blue (for Democrats) that will take away your Post Election Blues Syndrome, or PEBSY.

Or better still, they could put the drug in a new soft drink and we could just sit in our recliners and sip our PEBSY's thinking back on the good ol' days when the election was months in the future and we all felt like we were actually worth something, that we had some value, that the uppity ups over there in Washington D.C. really cared about us and were interested to know what we thought about, what our concerns were.

Yeah, boy, I tell ya'. Those were some good ol' times, real sweet. We were riding high in the driver's seat calling the shots then, I mean it. We had those politicos hoppin' that's for sure. They couldn't turn somersaults fast enough for us back then. Yeah, those were some good days, yessiree. Hey, you gonna drink that? Yeah, pass me that PEBSY and I'll tell you some more stories about how good things used to be.