Watching Donald Trump march toward the Presidency scares me beyond description. His vituperative nature cannot be the face of America, at least not my America. But every time I hear him call Hillary a crook, I remember why I've never been one of Mrs. Clinton's biggest fans.
Those in the know report a disturbing lack of enthusiasm for her, without citing specifics about the why's. There's none of the energy surrounding Sen. Sanders, whose resume is certainly less impressive than the former First Lady, Senator, and Secretary of State.
I've been relying on those qualifications to secure her a seat in the Oval Office. Watching Trump advance despite predictions to the contrary, I'm beginning to wonder if enthusiasm resulting in a less qualified Democrat might be preferable to voters staying home and a narcissist winning by default.
Can I be feeling the Bern, just a little? Can I toss aside the fact that he is flat out wrong on guns, that Hillary is a woman and I have a granddaughter, that experience and knowing the players should have some bearing on my choice?
I just don't know. I don't know if I'll have the chance. It's like betting on a match race, knowing one of the entrants will scratch before post time. I don't want to care, but I do.