I mean that in the literal, physical sense. Hubby and I were out on lower Connecticut Avenue tonight — he needed clothes and we both needed some Malaysian food — to see a press crew avec satellite truck outside the Mayflower Hotel: site of one Universalist General Convention, our domestic partnership celebration brunch and at least one recent scandal.
About the media, I opined: “Another New York governor caught with his pants down?”
No, it seems Senator Obama was there. So that’s the closest I know I’ve been to him. Though with the surreal tack the McCain campaign is taking, I suspect early next year he’ll be living in that big white house around the corner. Can’t wait for the debate/interview in Mississippi.
I check in once a day at fivethirtyeight.com for the newest poll tracking, which you might like, too. Oh, and we have Internet connectivity at home so the blog is back.