The envelope, please
Carmac would hold the envelope to his head and say what the question was, before opening the answer. Last night, a woman said her breast cancer has moved to her lymph nodes, stage 2. I reached out my hand to touch her on instinct, although I barely knew her.
This morning, Obama said in so many words, the country is sick (we knew that) and it is going to get worse before it gets better (we half ass expected that) and the prognosis cast a pall over the general joie de vivre we have been feeling.
Maybe the only answer is a collective ommmmmmmmmmmmm.