You know the kind, right?

I was leaving my polling place in Minnesota's 3rd - one of the wealthiest suburbs in the country (except for me). This guy spends a looonnng time parking his new Caddy, and then gets out with what appears to be his fifty-ish son. The son looks pretty successful - shoes, always look at the shoes - and a driven, business type.

I held the door for them when they walked into the church where we vote - the 8th and 11th Precincts. The son had an etched-in bitter look to him, and never looked at me. The old man nodded and thanked me.

All I heard as they walked in was the old man saying: "...and after all the years I still don't have one damn idea what he thinks about anything..."

Heh. Split ticket...