I want to see Gary Johnson, of the Libertarian Party, as our next President.
Quixotic dreamer that I am, I think he actually could become the occupant of The Oval Office if things fall right. He's polling in the low double-digits at present. If he can crack 15% in select national polls, he will be given a place on the stage during the presidential debates this fall. If that happens, anything can happen.
And I'm fairly militant about my candidate, too. Ask me my opinion and I'll give it to you straight. I think Trump and Clinton are BOTH unfit for the office. Whichever one of them wins - if, indeed, one of them does win - I'll be a combination of sad, angry and disillusioned that I have never been before.
Having said that, though, I am trying desperately to not alienate the people who really matter to me. I am trying to hold my most strident political opinions in check when I am in the company of those folks I love but who may have a differing opinion.
I'm trying, but I'm failing - sometimes. And that's what my column in today's Boston Herald is about.
As always, I'm grateful to you for stopping by this increasingly desolate wasteland that once was a robust and thriving blog. I'll be even more grateful if you go to the Herald's website. I'll be positively ecstatic if you leave a positive comment there. I might even die as a result of paroxysms of joy if you write a letter to the editor and it's published (but, even if you don't want to see me dead, feel free to take the chance. I'll medicate myself each morning before I read the paper, just in case.)
Soon, with more better stuff (especially if Johnson wins, but I think I already said as much and I don't want to beat a dead horse, as much fun as that might be.)
(I had no idea, until this very moment, how macabre I could be concerning deceased equines. Sorry!)
