Hopefully, Only One Term

That's the punch line to a joke on a poster at the Arizona Democratic HQ that begins, "What do you get when you cross the Class Clown with the Village Idiot?"

A pleasant, articulate young man called one night last week asking if we'd be willing to volunteer some time this Saturday at the above mentioned hq.  I said sure, knowing K would be back in town and itching for something subversive to do.  Little did I know.

We made it to the appointed location, not very late, and were let in and directed to a back room where phone banks were being manned and womaned  - even more so.  It's hard to describe our disappointment at standing around for almost twenty minutes, trying to make eye contact, trying to find someone to report to and salute, and having no success.  Finally, I turned to K and said, "You know, the Huskers are playing right now."  She said ok, and we left.  We wanted a yard sign or two, but those weren't even in evidence. Sheesh.

Once in the parking lot, she says to me, "Let's go look at that car you were telling me about."  Long story short, we came home three hours later with a Ford Focus ZX5.  Like we need another car.  My recollection was that our plan had been to let the S2000 lease run out, then get by with the truck and the motorcycle until we find out whether K & B are selling their company, and then get another car.  Sheesh.