Super Patriot USA

Strolling through Georgetown on a fine summer evening this past Wednesday, I saw an all-American family, assumedly in town from Illinois or somewhere similar. The chubby 14-yearold son was wearing a Bush/Cheney 04 t shirt, and I was mighty tempted to tell the kid he'd better pray Kerry wins unless he wants to be drafted the day he turns 18 and shipped out to our new front in Tehran.

So we're standing in front of the Bistro Francais when Mumsy suggests maybe this place for dinner, what do you think? The dad grimaces and shakes his head like she suggested a strap on. He clarified his thoughts with, "French. No."

I guess despite the fact that France was eventually proven correct on WMD doesn't supercede this guy's moral objection to roasted chicken and potatoes, and all other things French.