Flame away. I just had to get this out of me.
I still want that French-speakin', polyglot-marryin', Navy-volunteerin', war-fightin', war-protestin', ERA-co-sponsorin', Iran-Contra-houndin', centrist-bein', mackerel-snappin' Senator to be my president.
He is not Howard Dean, and I will not hold that against him.
He is respectful and respectable. He has lived in countries other than the US. He probably knows where Bhutan is, approximately. He is intelligent and articulate.
He has lived through a divorce where children were involved. He has made mistakes and knows it. He has made mistakes and admits it.
He is a husband and a dad and sort of a geek. He is a politician and a lawyer. I strongly suspect he's a terrible dancer.
He knows the difference between an article of faith and a law.
He would push for legislation that would help my mom. And my brother. And my brother-in-law.
I still want him to be my president. I could go to Bhutan and tell people: President Kerry knows where we are, approximately.
And we would all smile.