Well, so much for Change!
While New Hampshireites were voting for the most establishment characters they could find on the ballots, I was driving from Brunswick, Maine, to Keene, New Hampshire, down to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Boston, to Charlestown, back out to Westford, then to Lawrence, up to Derry, New Hampshire, over to Merrimack, up past Lake Winnipesaukee, to Center Ossipee, and then finally back to Brunswick by way of Westbrook, Maine. It was dark when I set out, and it was dark when I got back some 21 hours later.
And whether I'm tooling along the rock-bound coast or in the granite hills, my preference for easy listening while on the long hauls is Boston radio. During the day it was AM sports talk, most of which about Roger Clemens' quite absurd if not disturbing taped phone conversation with his erstwhile best friend and former drug dispender (B-12 or HGH? You make the call!), whose kid is dying, which the Rocket felt a need to share with the world in hopes of disabusing the skeptics of their conviction of his being a cheat and a 3rd-rate scalawag t'boot.
Later in the evening, I had on NPR's campaign coverage, which, at one point, was carrying the most sacharin victory speech I've ever heard, and this from John McCain (leaving no doubt here that the Manchurians still have a tight grip on his hypothalamus), insisting all he ever does is tell the truth, and did so with an apparently drug-induced sing-songy spittle. I mean, dear gahd, if we're left to choose between him and the synthetically tear-jerking Hillary (And well done, m'dear!), then nothing will have changed.
Thank YOU, New Hampshire!
Update: And apparently we haven't enough Establishment body-snatchers afoot.