We’re now at the point in the election cycle where our best hope is that 70-year old Donald Trump will experience a major religious conversion that radically changes him.
Case in point: Yesterday, I ventured outside the Beltway to Frederick, Maryland, where I dined at a pizzeria where I once worked as a cook and dishwasher. (An aside: If you are willing to eat at a restaurant where you formerly worked, this is a good sign for the restaurant.) The occasion was an early birthday celebration for yours truly, and about 20 of my relatives (on both sides of the family) attended.
It’s always great to eat pizza and catch up (and let me say that I love my family and they are all amazing people), but it also provided me with an informal focus group for political content. (Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be writers.)
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