Today, my boss asked me what I thought about Hillary's win in New Hampshire. I told him: New Hampshire isn't Iowa. Wait until Super Tuesday. My boss has the advantage of having once actually participated in the Iowa Caucuses and he's been to New Hampshire. He feels neither is representative of the country in general. I simply think it's not over until it's over. I've heard a dozen theories from the geographical to the conspiracy. It's not over til it's over and it ain't over yet.
At the same time, you have to feel bad for Hillary. I don't think she'll win, no matter what she does. Too many people hate her for no reason at all. It's not fair. I swear, if Hillary turned water into wine, she'd be criticized for alcoholism. If Hillary healed the sick, she'd be charged with practicing medicine without a license. If Hillary walked on water it would be dismissed as proof that she's out of touch with environmental issues. If Hillary wins, it'll be more than a miracle, it'll be the second coming.
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Hey this is really good. I live in the land of "what's not to hate about Hilary." I don't talk to people about it (but then I don't get out much), but I do hear incredible stories about how people talk from those who do go out.
I thought I had heard it all when a year or so ago, my mom told me about talking with Mrs. D., my eighth grade history/English teacher, whom you must have known. (Mrs. D died, BTW, not too long ago -- last year, anyway).
Now, what you may not know is that Mrs. D. was the The Teacher for me, or at least the first one who made a huge impact on me. She got me devouring books and stretching my mind in all different directions. I did know I was, well, a bit further out than her when I started reading Chairman Mao's little red book when I did a paper in 8th grade on China (though one must recall that in 1965 or whenever it was there was very little written in English about China past 1940, virtually nothing in the public library, and only what I could purchase in paperback in Chicago, and that written by the odd Frenchmen or the other few that were the only Westerners even allowed into the country). Although she may have gulped, she didn't say a critical word but only encouraged my explorations. Later I admired her even more for having let me read and write so freely about China, communism, and later, Viet Nam.
Well, fastforward to a year or two ago, when Mrs. D. rebuked my mother for ... not sure what it was exactly, I think it was reading Hilary's autobiography (probably how the subject came up). Mrs. D. informed my mother that Hilary was a horrible person, evidenced by the "fact" of her affair with Vincent Foster. I don't recall if she also claimed Hilary was a lesbian (seems to me that some book alleged both the affair with Foster and a history of lesbian relationships dating back to college). All I know is that she practically forbade my mother to even read Hilary, let alone suggest there was anything interesting or good about her. I was stunned -- my heroine, Mrs. D., must have succumbed to rightwing talk radio. Either that or she was visited by Martians.
I don't get it. But I usually don't. Where do these people get these ideas?
(Hey, are you going to zap me if my comments get too long?)
PINK FLAMINGOS!
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