America: Avoiding Coyote Ugly
By Michael Willard
My fear was that I had gone to bed election night — actually about 3 a.m. — next to coyote ugly and that her name was Ms. America. I didn’t recognize her. She wore bright red lipstick, the color of a particular politician’s necktie.
Nightmares eventually end. Mine did, maybe yours.
But like many, I had been lulled by the pollsters’ serenade, confident of victory until the votes started painfully being counted. Dog-tired, I gave up the ghost.