You keep waiting for that person for whom you voted to emerge, but then you start to realize that he's not, that he's just not.

He's done the math, and he's figured out the safest path.

I’m in Canada right now (British Columbia to be more specific, [Whistler Village to be even more specific {the Mountainside Lodge to be most specific of all}]), after having spent 5 ½ days trying to get some writing done. How’d it go? Like it usually goes: not well.

So I'm crossing the Canadian border just north of Blaine, Washington, in my silvery and lovely Civic. Nearly every time I cross over, I get hassled.

I've been in a knife fight of a poker game for a little over four years with some guys who are heavy hitters, and this is the record of how I've done.