I was up bright and early (well, early anyway) and dragged myself to the local Baptist re-education facility and stood in line with the A-M segment of the population of Troy, MI. The N-Z crowd was apparently still asleep since none of them stepped up to the table, those slackers. Things were quiet and orderly, which is to be expected at 7 a.m. on a Tuesday when caffeine levels are still below operational threshold. There was no protesting, contesting, or disenfranchising of Troy’s six African-Americans, at least as far as this English-Norwegian-Hungarian-Hillbilly-American could see. All that’s left now is to sit back, play some games, and listen for the galloping of approaching Horsemen. In honor of the nonsensical confusion that will be the American election I wore my sweatshirt from Japan to the polls, because it too is confusing and makes no sense.