Election Eve Anxiety - Ep 26-386

It’s election eve, and Republicans are nervous about turnout. Democrats are nervous about spelling. In Alaska, apparently one Republican was so popular they needed a second one to split his vote. Imagine getting recruited for that job: “We love your name.” What about my policies? “Please don’t complicate this.”

Welcome, Friends and Patriots. How are you feeling? A little anxious? Checking the polls again, as though something happened in the eleven seconds since you last looked? I understand, because I’ve been looking, too. At this point, my phone should say, “Kevin, you’ve already read this. Go bother your wife.”

When I make predictions, I try to be thoughtful. I examine the evidence, consider what could go wrong, and allow for the possibility that I’m mistaken. Obviously, I don’t dwell on that last part. There’s thoughtful, and then there’s giving my family material.

But if you’re nervous, consider the people whose entire campaign rests on convincing you that everything you’ve experienced needs to be explained to you by somebody on television. You say groceries cost too much, and they explain why you’re prosperous. You mention the border, and suddenly you need a lecture on compassion. These people could rear-end your car and spend the next twenty minutes explaining why you’re better off without a trunk.

Then comes Alaska, with allegations about recruiting a candidate who shares the Republican’s name. Apparently, winning the argument was taking too long, so somebody considered winning a clerical error. Imagine explaining that strategy to your volunteers: “Our message is really resonating with people who forgot their reading glasses.”

And we’ve had plenty to examine this October: declassified material, Crossfire Hurricane, and questions about what people inside the FBI and CIA did, knew, and told the public. I want the documents examined and the claims tested. When somebody says, “There’s nothing to see here,” while standing in front of a locked filing cabinet, I’d like them to move their chair.

Washington has a remarkable employment system. A plumber floods your kitchen, you find another plumber. An intelligence official gets something catastrophically wrong, and six months later he’s on television explaining who threatens the country. Apparently, the background check for that job is whether you’ve already appeared in the background of a congressional hearing.

Tomorrow, we get our turn. The consultants have billed their hours, the celebrities have delivered their lectures, and my inbox has received enough desperate fundraising emails to qualify as a hostage negotiation. Every subject line says somebody is disappointed in me. I already have a family; I don’t need that relationship with a Senate campaign.

For me, V-Day means voting—and a verdict on the people asking to keep their jobs. The most satisfying political vengeance is making somebody who ignored you spend Wednesday explaining why you fired them. I want that explanation delivered slowly, preferably by the same expert who told us we didn’t understand how well things were going.

So read your ballot carefully, cast your vote, and give them a result they have to explain.

Kevin Jackson has been called, the "white-collar" Joe Rogan. Given their similar backgrounds in TV, comedy, and martial arts, it's easy to see why people enjoy Kevin's show so much.

Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.