Expectations

Have you noticed? I haven't said that word for days. Not a peep. Not a squeak. Not a Trump.
Oh. Sorry. I suppose it would be better if maybe we could all just close our eyes until November 9, then open them up again to whatever brand new day awaits us. Kind of like when I was a kid and held firm to the belief that if I went to bed at noon on Christmas Eve, Santa would stop by our house much sooner. Instead, I would just lay there on my bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting. And waiting. And so on. Election Day feels like it might never come, and as we stare at the clock alternately with the twenty-four hour news cycle, it feels like the days between now and then are growing ever longer and we may be doomed to an eternity of picking nits and making a fuss about whatever happens to be on somebody's Twitter feed. Our Presidential Election has become a reality TV show.
It makes sense, sadly. It has all the earmarks: obnoxious entitled families squabbling over the tiniest scrap of recognition. What are we trying to accomplish? Elect a commander in chief or boost ratings for some basic cable network?
Wait. Don't answer that. I am afraid I already know the answer, which is why I found the news that Donald J. Tsrump wants to have a debate without moderators so completely expected. After all, one can hear the idjit block complaining, there were no moderators for the Lincoln/Douglas Debates. Totally old school. This would probably give the edge to Mister Twitter, but it is worth noting that eight years ago, Ms. Clinton suggested that she and a certain upstart young senator from Illinois do that very thing in their quest to become the Democratic nominee for President way back then. When the going gets tough, it would seem, the tough go without moderation.
And what, you may ask, has been in moderation this election season? I suppose we can only be thankful that tomorrow is, as Scarlett O'hara once noted, is another day. And we can also be thankful that this whole mess won't end in a steel cage match.
Probably.