The Istoriaphile’s Corner

We’re coming to the end of another election season and, like almost everyone on the planet, I’m glad this miserable contest is almost over.  The mud-slinging, innuendo, and overall nastiness of political rhetoric have made this a loathsome campaign year and the parade of contradictory polls is exhausting me.  But I will vote on Tuesday, as I have in every election.  I can’t help it.  I was politicized long before I could read and my parents deserve the credit/blame.  That’s what happens when you’re kissed at a young age by presidents. My mom had a button like this in herjewelry box for decades See, my mom was a big fan of John F. Kennedy in 1960.  YUGE fan, another candidate might say.  Well, what wasn’t there to like?  He was young, attractive, and charismatic, enough to charm any woman in her early twenties.  And my mother was never tepid about politics.  She paid fierce attention to the news and loved or hated most people in public service.  So when she heard JFK and his running mate were arriving at the Wichita Falls, Texas airport, she had to be there to greet him, along with me and Dad. Now my Dad…