My father, a Kerry voter, was pondering Wednesday his options now that President Bush has been re-elected.
"Perhaps I'll just remain in a state of denial for the next four years," he said.
Another option that came to him stemmed from the fact that his grandfather had helped to build the Canadian railroad.
"Pop* had to become a Canadian citizen to work on the railroad," he said. "As far as I know, he just went back to Texas but never switched his citizenship. Maybe I could be grandfathered in up there..."
If that doesn't work, apparently it takes just five years to expatriate to Canada -- which is about as long as it will take to figure out the icing rule in hockey.
That all said, Canada has announced it will offer no special treatment.
Applying for British naturalization looks even more difficult (Question 10; Item 2) -- those bits about "must not be of unsound mind" and "must be of good character" may be a challenge for me.
Some people accuse us in the Global Media Conspiracy of harboring a certain bias. I say that's nonsense.
Perhaps this will be of note only to Esther and me, but: Noooooooooooooooooo.
Speaking of Esther, I have come to the painful realization that she doesn't want me commenting on her blog. A few days ago, I made a comment about her ghost dog and she removed the comments feature from her blog. She brought it back a day or two later, I left a comment, she removed the comments again.
You cut me deep, man.
I wonder if I could bet on myself to get my book published?
Many years ago, I discovered that I could often get away with a free ride on regional French trains by pretending to be asleep. They wouldn't want to wake me to check my ticket. This trick never worked in Britain, though. You must always have a ticket on British trains.
On the plus side, he now has super-human strength.
Oh, Jake, say it ain't so.
Terror Reigns In Spotsylvania
It probably swam in the doe end -- see what I did there?
I am canceling vacation plans to Gauhati, India.
You know, one thing I'm thankful for is the fact that popular music has moved beyond the use of harmonica solos.
*My dad calls his grandfather "Pop." I call my grandfather "Papa." My grandfather calls his notoriously cantankerous Orangeman grandfather "Pappy."