So I'm being bounced around on the Sunday Morning Talk Shows (as soon as they finish talking about G. Gordon Libby's old Flame, or something like that). This gives me great joy, as I would like nothing more to reach the court honorably, fairly, and with my dignity intact.
Unfortunately, more reliable sources describe me like this:I am just being thrown out there, apparently, to throw attention off the real nominee. If not my archnemesis J. Michael Luttig, then the Horsewoman of the Apocylpse, Edie Jones.
Frankly, I'm fine with it. I like balloons. Who among us has not, at some point or another, been someone else's balloon. And while clerks across the country may not believe it, even when I was a kid we all watched this tearjerker.
So that was a very quick visit to the spotlight.
I'm not expecting anything. But I haven't turned my cellphone to silent just yet.