Like the Agatha Christie mystery about guests in a house who are eliminated one by one, the seven remaining democratic candidates trying to move into the White House, debated Tuesday night in a wham, bang, rabbit punch, sock to the gut, left hook, right hook, head butt performance, forgetting that the seven are not the enemy. Donald Trump is the guy they want to evict.
Who will be the first of the seven to go? Tom Steyer, an aging Robert Redford lookalike. He’s blond, has a lot of money, and could be the parking lot attendant at the White House.
Amy Klobuchar might go after the parking lot attendant leaves. She always seems to look as though she has a buzz on, and her speech sort of supports the buzz possibility.
And why does she believe it’s her mission in the debates to pick on Pete Buttigieg, pronounced Buddha-Judge? Who, incidentally, would make a terrific White House press secretary, can talk, spell, would never hide behind anonymous tweets, and he’d make a smart president, in twenty years.
Then there’s the angry, scolding, index finger jabbing, lecturer, Grandpa Sanders. Lord, spare the nation four years of finger-jabbing Sanders. The only good side of the finger jabbing, is that, at least he doesn’t go through the pre-service routine of Rafael Nadal.
And there's Elizabeth Warren. Her campaign message is: I grew up poor, but I made it. True. But lots of people grew up poor during the depression. Poor to rich doesn’t qualify anyone for the White House. And can anyone get her out of that black jumpsuit with the rotating jackets? Great to see her appear in riding pants, knee boots, polo shirt, and a dressage whip.
Mike Bloomberg? Appoint him as treasury secretary. He made billions, didn't inherit from daddy, knows how to make and spend, and regardless of what he said five, ten, fifteen years ago, the US and the world can not tolerate four more years of Putin’s pick.
That leaves Joe Biden. And Biden stands alone. Experience, smarts, respects women and looks great in Ray-Bans.
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