This was another sad day.

I wasn’t surprised by the results. And not just because of the prescient dream I had the night before doomsday. You see, I come from a sort of red background. I grew up in a blue state, but my town was pretty red growing up. Cows were tipped. Mailboxes were batted at. And people weren’t too accepting of difference or *snobs.

*That’s what progressive liberals were called back then.

For example, in high school I kept it a secret that I shopped at The Gap and enjoyed watching PBS, fearing that I would be shunned or mocked. It was just that kind of place.

Then I had the extreme opposite experience living in New York City as an adult.  In New York I felt inadequate because of my “small-town” roots. Because I hadn’t learned the proper way to say Creme Brulee until I was 26. (In case you are wondering, it’s not CREEEM BROOOLEEEE. You can hear the proper pronunciation here.)

I’ve always been a straddler.  And a very observant one.  So this election didn’t surprise me.

It just saddened me.