NIGHT thoughts on the election. . . . First of all, I didn’t vote. How could I? I’m a Baseball Spinster, not a Soccer Mom. I might as well be a Transmontane Whig or a Free-Silver Albigensian.
Add “archconservative” to my profile and it’s obvious I had no place to go. No one remotely resembling a conservative was on the ballot. During the campaign I withheld my unvarnished opinion of Bob Dole out of whatever shreds of GOP loyalty I had left, but here it is: he’s George Bush with a masculine voice. I was disgusted by the eager appeasement of his farewell Senate speech trumpeting his support of every liberal hissyfit from the Martin Luther King holiday to the Americans with Disabilities Act, and infuriated by his bouncer number in San Diego when he invited all who resist equality at any price to note that “the exits are clearly marked.”
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