By this time next week, members of both the House and Senate will be racing across the Potomac bridges in heavy traffic, making a run for the departure gates at Reagan Airport, trying to get out of town before the White House Switchboard operators can find them by some super-secret BORG technology they use to locate and connect them from anywhere on the planet to one of those quasi-parental "I'm very disappointed, I expected so much more from you, I know you're capable of so much better than that." kinds of speeches over the phone from The Godfather in the Oval.
But once our boys and girls from the House and Senate have fastened their seatbelts, turned off all electronic devices, stopped trying to hide their still fully-powered Blackberry from the grumpy flight attendants, properly stowed their tray tables in the fully upright and locked position, and crammed all of their earthly possessions into the overhead bins (Because, seriously, does anyone actually, like, check-in their luggage for a flight anymore? Me neither.) -- when all of the enormously entertaining pre-flight rituals are complete, those planes will take off, bound for Alaska or Florida, Texas or California, Kansas or Wyoming. And at that moment, we will know once again that our souls have been lightened, our prayers answered, and our country a little safer. We made it to Congressional recess. Let's all have a moment of silence and thanks to let that sink in.
But while Congress is out, doing whatever it is that they do on vacations of that length, I will be busy analyzing the flurry of different plan proposals, correcting arithmetic, identifying the intellectual free-fire zones, and the people that are sadly naive, lying, actively hallucinating, or frankly delusional. It should be fun.
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