 Well, it’s a happy Tuesday for some of us, I suppose. It’s not even 4AM here in New York and I’m certain most of you are still tucked into your beds. You’re likely subliminally congratulating your candidate for their brilliant performance in that messy debate last night.
Me, I’ve been up all night. Mostly, because someone or something is still blocking me from opening the door to my bedroom here in the Southern Living suite at the Grand Hyatt. Eh well, I was able to finish my piece for Southern Living. No parties in the suite last night, though I swear I could hear Uncle Bill outside the door whimpering and scratching to come in. Actually, I’ve been watching all the post-debate analysis initially thinking I’m the only one who didn’t get it. Turns out, no one gets it. There may have been a clear winner, depending on whose analysis and/or polls you choose to believe, but no else seems to be able to agree. I learned a long time ago that polls are like handicapping a horse race. If you go to the races during the work week, when the only people there are the guys who’ve been there every afternoon for the past thirty years wearing the same “lucky” luau shirt even though it’s the middle of January, you can count on the posted odds to help you figure out which horse to back in the race. However, if you go to the track on a weekend you had better not even look at posted odds because every Budweiser-guzzling moronic boob is skewing those odds using their can’t-miss method for picking the horses. That’s my roundabout analogy of explaining why pre-election polls are a lot like pre-race odds – they don’t tell you a damned thing…they’re skewed. Maybe it’s the way the questions were asked, there are a lot of shenanigans such as pollsters simply calling homes they know lean one way or the other. I can guarantee you that CNN did not call any homes in rural America, much the same as someone like FOX News wouldn’t dial any numbers where someone in a seemingly-random questionnaire had previously stated a preference for tighter government control over environmental issues or possessed education beyond high school. It’s important to keep in mind that these polls are NOT from random or particularly large groups. As I mentioned above you can bend your survey to meet your editorial needs. The results are from what are referred to as snap polls, that is, a person’s visceral reaction to a particular debater’s performance during or immediately following the debate (no time for sitting and pondering). Here are a few: Drudge Report: Trump 81.5%, Clinton 18.5%; TIME: Trump 58%, Clinton 42%; CNBC: Trump 51%, Clinton 49%; NBC New/Wall St. Journal: Trump 37%, Clinton 43%; NBC News/Survey Monkey: Trump 40%, Clinton 45%; The Washington Times: Trump 71%, Clinton 22%; CNN: Trump 11%, Clinton 62%. The thing that struck me were the polls from local stations and papers in large markets…Cleveland, New York, Las Vegas, Nashville, San Diego…all overwhelmingly indicating the Trump won. There were some low blows during the two-hour session – Queen of the Unindicted calling out the Trump for being racist and sexist. The Trump responding to criticism that he doesn’t pay anything in Federal income tax with “that makes me smart.” (hmmmmm) And saying that he’ll release his taxes when Her Majesty releases her emails. That brought criticism of the poor schmuck who was moderating the debate, Lester Holt, for not bringing up Her Majesty’s email mess or Benghazi. Who cares, you ask? Well, perhaps you should. Despite being cleared of any purposeful wrongdoing on both counts (mistakes were made, feelings were hurt, let’s get past it…thpppppt), it will continue to dog her like an old nasty tire hanging around her neck. Eventually, it will come up in one of these so-called debates and her response in that forum may be very telling. I also noticed that Mister Lester was very hands off on the Trump’s own legal issues – a docket of lawsuits that could run for the next 20 years. If he becomes president, those get put off. Apparently, you can’t sue a sitting president. Who knew? As for my own analysis of who “won”…you’ll have to read the forthcoming piece that I finished at 2AM for Southern Living. I no sooner printed the damned thing and the virginal vegan Hodensack came running out of her bedroom, grabbed the pages and ran back in. She’s been reading and editing it in there over the phone with her editor. I suppose I’ll have some recommended changes to make before I send it off to the magazine. In the meantime, I have to get back to The Compound. There’s much to do in preparation for producing the additional episodes for Bigfoot: Naked and Untamed. Cousin Fred is still not answering his phone. I half-expected to see him here in New York, but he never showed. The Trump was very nicely coifed, so I know Gigi is hard at work. So, it’s back to reality or at least, Reality Show. Comments are closed.
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