The grinning yokel on the left is the woman who puts food in my bowl and gives me a warm fleece blankie to nap on. She came home from today's Barack Obama rally in North Carolina flat-out drunk on hope. Shortly afterward, her one and only Republican friend happened to phone and ask what she was up to. "Oh!" she said, her enthusiasm barely containable. "I just got back from the Obama rally downtown—there were 20,000 people down there!" To her astonishment, he replied: "Were they handing out free cheese?" Oh boy. She gave me the nod, and I put my paw on the receiver and pressed "End Call." Ooops!
The Madame leaned back in her chair, her hope bubble temporarily deflated. She stewed for about 20 minutes, then she looked at me and said, "You know, racists can be inspirational, in their way." She grabbed her coat and goofy blue hat and scurried out the door. "Don't hold dinner!" she cried.
Four hours later the Madame returned and ran over to me and shook me by the shoulders. "Henry, I made over 200 phone calls at Obama HQ! I told people when and where they could vote early! Many of them thanked me and said they couldn't wait to get down to the polls and cast their vote for Obama! And just when I thought I'd cave from lack of sustenance, a lady brought in a steaming hot pan of homemade baked spaghetti for the volunteers. She offered it from the goodness of her own heart and the warmth of her own kitchen. And .... I think you know where this is going .... it was topped with cheese. Melted and yummy. And free."
I think you have a little bit of hope smeared at the corner of your mouth, I said. Here, let me get that for you.
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