Heating up the Race

Tea: Mandarin Green, iced.

Music: Squeeze, "Tempted"

Time: Night.

I am, as you might not know, an independent politically. Until they form a "Dude, Don't be a Moron" Party, I have no permanent allegiance. If there's a good Democratic primary, I'm a temporary donkey. If the Republicans have the best primary, they're GOPeachy keen with me -- until it's time to quit again.

For years, the presidential primaries made me a Republican so I could vote for Pat Paulsen. No such luck these days, and I'm stuck between two major party choices who don't exactly thrill me. I could vote for Ron Paul, I suppose, or Bob Barr, but it wouldn't matter. I live in Kansas, and because the Electoral College still hasn't been consigned to history (which will be one of the first acts of the "Dude, Don't be a Moron" Party), any vote which isn't Republican doesn't count.

(Not to say that I'd vote Democratic, or any other affiliation. I'm just saying that each vote should count, which is the subject of another rant entirely.)

Anyhow. A friend of mine, who trusts politicians about as far as she could spit Antarctica, pondered whether to write in the name of chef Daniel Bouloud. "Foie gras in every garage," she said." I pointed out that he was born in France. "Fine," she said. "Anthony Bourdain. I'm not picky."

Hmm ... not a bad idea, that. Give me a tattooed, snarky chainsmoker who never met a home brew he didn't like over a prefab candidatron any day. So the Swiss would hate us. Or maybe the Austrians. Or both. If we could get the list down to two countries, I'd be okay with that.