Without withdrawing a scintilla of my attack on Peters prognosticating abilities, I should like to revise my predictions upward a little bit toward his. (Note: the polls are not yet open as of this writing.) Conversations with sources in California last night indicate a very large turnout is expected. This can only mean one thing: A recall/Arnold blowout. (70% arent going to turn out to vote for Bustamante.)
So: I now say, Recall 57%; Arnold, 44%.
Someone mathematicaly inclined (that also wouldnt be Peter) should set up a point-spread betting line on all of this.
Although my heart doesnt want me to post this, I think that the recall will fail. Im not sure the voters of California are really going to pull the trigger. I hope Im wrong.
Forget the numbers, boys, theyre meaningless. This thing is going to court, just like all the other voter props that didnt turn out like the left wanted em to.
Thus Mr. Bust-a-move will be "selected," not elected. And the left will get revenge for Florida.
A fog settled down in my neck of So Cal in the pre-dawn hours. The polls opened at seven a.m. I got to mine at the local grammar school at 7:01--the place was packed. Unprecedented. Voters streamed like ghosts out of the mist. The dutiful septuagenarian stopped every one of them at the door, asking, "Do you know the line number of your candidate?" Unprecedented. We are all half asleep, the swirling fog makes the school feel like a scene from Blade Runner, no one has ever been asked such a question going into a polling booth, and were Californios--so what do we do? We answer! Only some of us think he wants to know the page, so we say, "Page Two!" "No, no," says the old citizen who could have played the sheriff in Much Ado about Nothing, "Not the page, the line number!" "Oh, uh, I forgot my glasses, let me see . . . uh, line 31, I think." "No, you dont have to tell me. Were just making sure youre not confused by the ballot." "Oh."
"Page 2, Line 31," says the next one before even being asked. And so on. It turns into a mantra. Citizen ghosts in the fog chanting "Page Two, Line 31!" It takes on a rhythm. People begin to sway in a kind of civic cha-cha-cha.
Page 2, Line 31: Ahnold. Its over. And the fog hasnt even lifted. Of course the counting of the absentees will go on for weeks, and the Dems are already knocking down the courthouse doors. Never mind. "It has frequently been remarked that it seems to have been reserved to the people of California to give democracy a whole new meaning."
p.s. An old blue hair sashays out of the fog with a freshly minted sweatshirt. On the back: "Grope me for California." Duty calls. Then I disappear in the mist.
The only way the Dems can get this one into court is if they can PROVE that Democrat voters are too stupid to use the same voting technology as everyone else.