Daily Archives: August 13, 2015

BREAKING… URGENT… PREDICTABLE THING HAPPENS

Spoiler alert: Shap Smith will run for governor.

I know, shocking. But so reports the AP’s Dave Gram.

Mr. Speaker appeared on the soon-to-disappear Mark Johnson Show this morning and said that “he would make an announcement next Wednesday,” but wouldn’t say what. So Dave worked the phones and got a couple of unnamed “high-ranking Democrats” to spill the beans.

Being honorable people (cough), the sources refused to be named “because they did not want to be seen pre-empting Smith’s announcement.”

Which, of course, is exactly what they did. It’s just that they “didn’t want to be seen” doing so. Thanks, guys.

We’ve known for months now that Smith would run, just as it’s obvious Matt Dunne will enter the race, and it’ll be a shocker if Sue Minter opts out.

Continue reading

Advertisements

Kill Vermont Exceptionalism.

(A warm welcome to visitors from K9K’s Facebook community, and thanks for giving me a sizable bump in pageviews.)

Been looking for a reason to use this picture.

Been looking for a reason to use this picture.

A couple things are bugging me today. Both have to do with a deeply-held, and only partially merited, sense of satisfaction Vermonters feel about themselves.

Us Vermont liberals scoff at the conservative idea of American exceptionalism. We see America, not as the shining city on a hill, but as a nation with noble aspirations and our share of flaws. A work in progress; a development project on a hill, perhaps, with its ultimate shape to be determined. At the same time, however, we have an unspoken belief in the equally absurd notion of Vermont exceptionalism.

Anyway. My first item comes from yesterday’s Mark Johnson Show. I happened to drop in during an open-phone segment and heard a caller say that it takes at least three generations to make a real Vermonter. That’s how long it takes to inculcate the unique values and perspectives that make Vermont such a special place.

Good gravy on toast, are we a little full of ourselves?

I’ve lived here for nine years. By the caller’s measure, my great-grandchildren will be worthy of the name “Vermonter”. Until then, flatlanders all: uninvited guests in these verdant provinces.

Continue reading