In the words of the late, great, Roy Orbison, “It’s over, it’s over, it’s o-o-ver!” Will the last cockroach standing please turn out the lights.

Exactly what is over is a little less clear, if you were sitting in on my conversation with Meat and Tater. They were at my door bright and early Monday with a pot of coffee.

Meat was his usual bull in a china shop self. Tater looked like somebody killed her cat. I was just trying to wake up.

“Have some coffee, SJ, help me try to talk some sense into this woman.”

“What sense? The whole deck is stacked for the bad guys, Meat.” Tater slumped over on the couch and buried her head.

It was hard for me to come up with anything soothing for Tater. I was pretty shocked by the outcome of the Mueller report, too.

“Yeah ... ummm ... you know Tater, maybe he just couldn’t find enough evidence to bring charges. You can’t really indict a sitting president.”

“Baloney, what you can’t indict is a billionaire. If Bernie won with that much Russian help, he’d be in Alcatraz by now.”

Meat glared at Tater. “Don’t be ridiculous, baby, Alcatraz ain’t a prison anymore.”

I wasn’t in any frame to follow that up. Who’d have thought Mueller would more or less clear the Donald of collusion, then straddle the fence on obstruction? It’s the last thing I thought.

“Well maybe Barr is leaving the bad parts out. The Attorney General does work for the White House. The Republicans loved pointing that out under Obama.”

Tater popped up, wild eyes and wild hair. “The Republicans are a death cult, SJ! They’re dealing the cards and casinos don’t lose.”

Meat grinned his best Cheshire cat grin. “Except Trump casinos.”  Tater let out a loud groan and slumped back over. I finished my cup and held it out for a refill.

Meat stepped over and filled me up. “You two snowflakes have got to get a grip. This was never anything but Hibachi Theater anyway...”

“Don’t you mean Kabuki there buddy?”

“Tomato, potato ... the point is, the Republicans believed Hillary was going down any minute from more investigations than anybody could count. But nothing ever happened. Now the other side is convinced the Donald is going down from an investigation to end all investigations. Surprise! Nothing’s gonna happen. Time to turn the channel.”

“Exactly, Meat.” Tater didn’t even raise up. “We live in reality TV world. Nothing is true and everything is permitted.”

“Deep as a well, honey. But it’s all even now. When one side says ‘What about ...,’ the other side can say, ‘What about ...’ The arguments cancel. Time to move on.”

I pulled a drink of coffee. The pipe dream of seeing the first president impeached for treason has evaporated like a puff of smoke. Looks like we are just going to have to vote him out.

Since his opponent won the popular vote last time and she ain’t in the White House, it’s hard to be optimistic. The Ds have a knack for turning a win into a loss.

I don’t know if it’s over, but I am definitely over it.

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