Now I know why I subscribe to the NYTimes and reserve the Washington Post for only online reading. I suppose if you are one of those “undecideds,” then the WashPost endorsement today of Kerry is just for you. It groans its way through the Bush record and moans its reluctance in completely handing it over to Kerry. On balance, though, it says Kerry, though shaky on some issues, will do better and is worth the risk.

The risk? It’s funny, it is the risk behind the GWB presidency that sends me spinning.

Yesterday, I spent another day in NHaven CT and I was taken for a hike along riverbanks, where I could indulge myself in perfect New England foliage views. Yes, I loved it, totally, completely. Imagine encountering covered bridges and maples trees with burgundy-tipped leaves. Of course, what pleased me no end were the other great signs of fall (see bottom photo in line-up).

a spectacular range of colors

hiking around, on the periphery of New Haven 

a New England classic 

CT, decidedly behind Kerry 

I can never wake up on October 24th and not remember that it is United Nations Day. (...on the march, with flags unfurled, together…)

(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)

toward the United Nations 

Eleventh street pre-election diary*

11th street: honking can get you in trouble

Sounding the horn on the blog bears no penalty and so I can proceed.

It is late. My train is speeding into darkness along the New Haven -- Grand Central corridor. I am reading the New Yorker and, in the gloom of the dark night, I suddenly I realize that our toast may well fall butter-side down in our laps. Let me explain.

The Talk of the Town column recalls Murphy's Law. Originally states as "If there's a wrong way to do it, he will" (since I am obsessing about politics, a certain candidate comes to mind), it evolved into the general proposition that "Anything that can go wrong will," or, as it is often formulated across the ocean (in Britain) -- "Bad things happen at the most inopportune times." In England, an advertisement basically sums it up thus: "Not only will your toast fall butter-side down; your toaster will break--the day after your guarantee runs out." And, the New Yorker article suggests that this is more than folk-wisdom. Life's events catapult in unfortunate directions in a synchronized march toward doomsday with some regularity. At the very least, it can be demonstrated that you are more likely to be stuck in a traffic jam if you need to be somewhere in a hurry.

I haven't read the headlines today yet, but I can translate this all too well into the political arena. Imagine this chain of absurdities: Kerry says Lambert instead of Lambeau while munching on a brat which he mistakenly refers to as a br-aaa-t (rhymes with hat), while wiping goose blood from his newly acquired hunting jacket, and 1000 voters, apparently with the minds of boiled turnips, catch all this on TV, gasp in shock, and fill out their swing state ballots for the "other guy." The electoral tallying machine crunches out the bleak reality. Ten electoral votes put one guy over the top and we have 4 more years of an administration that basically ensures the demise of the world as we know it. Or at the very least, hacks away at equality, civil rights, global dialogue and environmental resource conservation because the gut of one person tells him that this is what must happen. Have I taken Murphy's Law too far?

We are eleven days away. I have every right to honk scenarios of horror and gloom. Let me pause now and take a look at some headlines. Maybe that will cheer me up.

UPDATE: 50 to 46 doesn't do it for me.

(*see "forty-second street pre-election diary" post, September 22, for explanation of post title)

Twelfth street pre-election diary*

12th: all the green can be misleading; this is a blissfully blue city 

Twelve days, twelfth hour, twelve reasons to panic.

True, when I walk around the East Village, I get inspired by the display of support from a state that swings as blue as the writing on this post.

We The People... 

a welcome 'yard' sign 

But then, I come back uptown, get off the subway and am assailed by the following headline:

49 to 45 is way too close for a sure-fire Kerry state 

True, this is the NY Observer. I mean, who is going to pay attention to the Observer? Still, I am reading about those New Jersey types who are reveling in their tax-cuts and hating their Democratic governor and I get worried.

There are way too many references to guns in the papers today. Kerry is sporting a hunting rifle (thanks, macho boys, for demanding this of a presidential candidate), Bush is within shooting distance in New Jersey… Meanwhile, I read in the NYTimes that the NRA has already contributed $20 million to the Bush campaign. And there is Cheney, sarcastically scoffing at Kerry’s camouflage hunting jacket. I suppose his own duck-hunting excursion with Scalia last year is now but a distant memory. And here comes clever George, still playing with the “he can run” line. Why don’t you just KILL it already, George. [The latest GWB version, referring to Kerry in his hunting garb: “he can run – he can even run in camo – but he cannot hide.”]

(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)

En route to NY

I realized that I had been sitting in my room staring at the political screen for too long when I boarded the flight to LGA and, in spite of the drizzly DTW skies, my head cleared. [I may as well admit it: more than three weeks in one place and I implode.] Yeah! Is there a presidential campaign taking place? Don't know, don't care -- I tell myself. Yeah!

Not for long though. For those who believe only liberals feel compelled to proselytize their passionate message of hate and scorn for the "other side," let me tell you -- the passenger with whom I had to spend 59 minutes en route to DTW spared no vim nor vigor in telling me why he is right to be Right (as if his book on the heresy of Kerry wasn't already revealing). WWJDD (What Would Jane Doe Do)? She would, of course, not engage (why bother) and neither did I.

Flying into New York for me is always like stripping layers of down parkas and wooly sweaters off and revealing bare skin to the harsh elements of city life. Good-bye comfy quilt, hello shards of broken glass. It's odd how much I don't mind.

A reader reminded me that I have been focused on the campaign in this blog since at least the 42nd day prior to the election. She finds it scary-amazing that we are a mere thirteen days away from November 2nd. Similar thoughts were expressed by a student who wrote that she was sorry that she could not come to class for the next week and a half, but that she firmly believed in the historic significance of this election and she needed to now devote every hour of each day to getting out the vote.

A colleague noted that he has written in "Drunk" into his calendar for November 3rd no matter what the outcome. Now that's disconcerting. If you drink in post-election despair (rather than in exhiliration), then are you resigning yourself to a four-year period of inebriated stupor? I am hoping that he knows something I don't know (for example, that the polls are rigged and that the outcome is not at all close, with Kery leading by 10% of the vote, with a margin of error of .01).

Finally, a note from a neighbor led me to the photo below. I hope the French pay attention to the washing instructions on their clothes. [The photo has a way of disappearing at times and so if it's missing, know that it displays a clothing label from a small American company selling their product in France. It says in French: 'wash by hand with warm water and mild soap; dry flat; do not use bleach; do not dry in the dryer; do not iron; we are sorry that our president is an idiot; we did not vote for him.']

Thirteenth street pre-election diary*