Same As The Old Boss
It's all over but the crying. And that will come with the hangovers tomorrow. Yesterday was dry for the voting, but today- or tonight rather- was anything but. On my little southeast corner of the city's central park it seemed like I saw half the population walk, run, cycle, ride in the back of innumerable pickup trucks or otherwise scurry past. Lots of red and black flags and Spanish versions of 'Give Peace a Chance' blaring from big speakers lashed to the back of otherwise unoccupied pickup trucks. There were a couple of English speaking tourists out on the restaurant balcony with me- with a todler- but we managed not to speak or make eye contact.
I didn't actually see any overt drinking, but the results were pretty obvious. My favorite vignette was the ten-year-old boy holding up dear old Dad or Uncle as they staggered up the street leaning into car windows making small talk. It wasn't all as bad as it sounds. The people are happy, which is more than I can say for us norte-americanos for the past couple of rounds. If there weren't so much at stake I'd almost campaign for the Dems just to stop them from crying. As it is, somehow it looks like they will do it themselves, with just a little help from Mark Foley and a couple other idiots.
So what worries me more, Ortega back at the helm, or Nancy Pelosi's stretched-open eyeballs staring at me every day from the electronic newspapers? As there's very little chance that Nicaragua will be invading Costa Rica anytime soon, at least militarily, the fact that civil war in the States may have been averted by a Democratic win in one or both of the houses gives me at least some small comfort.
Oh yes, congratulations to Nicaragua!
