Last night, one of the candidates — I think it was Marco Rubio — said that 2016 was a pivotal election, a make-or-break election, do-or-die for the country. I tweeted (something like), “Actually, that was 2012. And the American people chose. Badly.”

Anyway, I was talking to a friend after the debate. Actually, we were texting. Isn’t texting the new talking? And he agreed with me about 2012. Then he said, “But the most painful election for me is still ’92.”

And so it is with me. Swear. Now, I realize, most people will regard 1992 as a nothingburger of an election. Bush 41 for Clinton? Ho-hum. Not for me. Not for some of us.

To us, it was an election between an honorable war hero — a member of what would be known as “the Greatest Generation” — and a sax-playing rogue out of the Sixties, a slippery specimen of the New Left. And the voters made their choice, robustly.

“This is America?” I said, reeling, crushed. Yup, it was. The year 1992 offered a stark choice — two utterly different men, two utterly different strains in our country. And the people sided up.

Mine is a peculiar view. It will strike many as incomprehensible. But some of us feel it, deeply. Anyway — on with the current apocalypse!