Notes from the Flatlands...

So, I had Hillary bleeding to death from a thousand cuts from the private server, and it looks like I couldn't have been more wrong.  Yesterday Ms. Clinton endured 11 hours of testimony in front of a Congressional committee that was rehashing Benghazi.  As my good friend, J. Kingston Pierce has noted, the Republicans were hoping for a "gotcha" moment, and what they got was eleven hours of smart, composed, chief-executive.

So, when I called that Hillary was done, and that Carly Florina was the woman to watch -- might of made my move too soon.

Help.  I am trapped in the bottom of the music building at the University of Minnesota.  My loving wife is practicing with her band, which plays a concert here later tonight.  A security guard kicked me out of the concert hall and directed me to a corner of another building where there is a "student lounge".  I have been here grading papers for an hour and a group of three music students just rolled in.

No problem, I have head phones.

Then they break out their metronomes and compare favorite rhythms...

Help...Only two more hours to go.

It gets weirder.  It is 6:00 p.m. and the "student lounge" is filling up with more people.  This wouldn't be a problem, but I am older than anyone in here by more than 35 years.  I am tempted to be judgmental and ask if these people don't have better things to do on a Saturday night - but who am I to talk...

When the lizards start to walk in, I am outta here.