i don’t know, chief. i don’t know if he’s very smart or very dumb.
i’m beginning to wonder if obama’s not playing it really well right now, positioning himself as too cool to slander hillary while simultaneously casting aspersions re: edwards’ cred and talking bipartisan talk. “come-to-jesus” talk. hopefully i’ll be beer-buzzed (not drunk) and digging the walkmen at the doug fir when the nevada debates go down, cuz i expect they’ll be more of the same. hillary’ll be back on point, but the damage – which isn’t yet enough damage – will already have been done. it definitely feels more like a horse race than i thought it’d feel like a month ago. and i wonder if edwards’ denunciations aren’t just saving obama from sullying himself. you? i actually think he’d be a damn compelling candidate in the general. am i an insane socialist from the nw with no perspective anymore?
meanwhile, my teeth are failing after years and years of neglect. go figure. i thought i’d at least wait until 2008 to begin with the half-dozen extractions i’m due, but i’ve got a hailstone-sized abcess parked atop my back-bottom jawbone. it’s made this joizee pained to say the least. on the flight out i had a middle seat in the back row. surrounded and unable to recline, i couldn’t even fall asleep on my throbbing face. the increased pressure that came with our gradual descent took me past prayers for passing out, all the way into full-blown tears.
speaking of, this weekend i visited my grandfather for the first time since his stroke this summer. heavy duty, seeing somebody who’s long epitomized the term “able,” saddled like we’re all gonna one day be saddled by the onset of too much place and time. the former and latter do wear a body down, no? it was all i could do to talk about the games of catch we used to narrate as full-on 9-inning games. or the battleships he made for me in his workshop downstairs. all i really need is for that man to feel comfortable for however long, and all i can do is write letters, with tidbits from my life and times and the occasional dose of memories. while my mother and sister keep a vigil.
i’m telling you, it’s like the dischord version of stephen effing daedalus, over here. i wonder if i can find a smoothie in this aerorport.