Very early morning, November 8, 2000. I'm at home, in bed, my eyes propped open with toothpicks. Last night -- as the networks called Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Florida for Al Gore -- I revived the moonwalk in my glee. Now the networks have called the election for George W. Bush, and I'm thinking the moon wouldn't be such a bad place to be right now, with or without oxygen.
The Bush supporters in Austin, with all the class of an obnoxious football crowd, are doing the "Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye!" chant. I doze off. When I wake up, my nightmare has begun. The Bushies have already started in on their "Sore Loserman" campaign to stop vote counting.