Upon coming out of the Democratic primary bubble, I had been lulled into thinking that everybody was now trying to work in an adult, democratic, progressive, civic manner. Silly me.
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Happy Summer Solstice! And Merry Christmas while I'm at it because that's how fast tempus is fugiting.

It's Day #14 of my Hillary withdrawal. For at least seventeen months, I saw her every day, knew where she was going, who she was having dinner with -- now nothing. It feels like a sad, if amicable, breakup. Now we have to start seeing other people. Sigh.

Perhaps the biggest shock upon coming out of the Democratic primary bubble is to realize that I had been lulled into thinking that everybody was now trying to work in an adult, democratic, progressive, civic manner. Silly me.

Out in the unreal world of Bushland, George and John McBush, his mini-me, want to drill their bits into ever inch of Mother Earth. They are squeezing the last little bit of speculative oil out before His Category 43ness leaves. They are back to photo-oping on broken levees. They are ignoring Iraq's ungrateful but fond wish for us to leave, now that it's going so well. ['For whom?' being the unasked question.] They are spreading manure lies about Barrack HUSSEIN Obama's religious beliefs. They are going after Michele Obama who is resisting their demands for an extreme makeover.

In short, they got nuthin' but fear and hate, their two favorite cards.

Happily, I've been following a different Haight. Despite the flagrant flaunting and taunting from CA friends, "Sooooo, when are you two getting married?" my gal pal and I recently reconfirmed our own vows not to marry. We do however, vigorously support the freedom of others to marry.

While we don't have the itch to hitch, we can't get enough of our friend's lovely stories of all the weddings in CA. With gas at $4.65 a gallon in LA, I encourage newlyweds to locate their bridal registries at the local gas station.

And na na na na na na, back at you CA -- one word: Celtics. And so much for that illusion of grownup behavior.

Our Empirical State is making progress. When Governor David Paterson issued an executive order that NYS must recognize out-of-state marriages, he spoke lovingly of the early influence of his two gay uncles, Stanley and Rodney. Rev. Al Sharpton teased him that he might have unwittingly outed them. Patterson said he was only disappointed that Rosie O'Donnell hadn't called him. With any luck, Paul Rudnick is already writing a sequel -- In and Out, Part II. I'm working on Same Sex in the City.

Happy Summer of Love! What do you want for Christmas, besides a First Lady Obama?

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