
Around 3am on I-10, en route to Atlanta for our Gustav hurrication, I drove past a family parked on the shoulder. The parents stood at the fender while a toddler stood on the trunk, waving her arms playfully, oblivious to the standstill, or perhaps dazzled by the headlights. There, I thought, is the future.
Obviously none of us knows what the next 8 years of America will look like. But if no one wants to step up during election time and promise to build a better FEMA and a wall of barrier islands--temporary fixes, but protection all the same--then I don't have much to say about elections, democracy, and change. Instead we get talk of pigs and lipsticks.
And here's betting that pig with lipstick gives the first speech on the subject.