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While Rob Long Oogles The Surfer Girl...



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I’m in the office with my thirteen-year old daughter, sneaking looks at the returns as I help her with essays for her applications to a couple of Catholic high schools. You might think I’d trade places with my friend Rob Long. For a moment or two after reading Rob’s post, I thought so myself. The mood passed. How come? There’s something wonderful about helping the next generation scribble away while the workings of the greatest democracy in history cranking away around us. And now that it’s looking as though this race is going to turn out right after all—as though the Republic pulled itself together, took a deep breath, and said, Hell yeah, we’re going to stand up to those barbarians—well, its enough to make a father suppose the United States may still be in good for the children.

What a country.

(If you’d like to trade places for just a weekend, though, Rob—really, you might get a whole new sitcom out of it—you know where to find me, buddy.)



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