I can still remember watching Mary Martin in the 1960 NBC production of Peter Pan, asking me and every other child watching the boob tube to clap to show we believed in fairies, because, if we all clapped enough, by God we could save Tinker Bell!

And we thought we had, all of us little four and five year-olds. But that was not true, of course. Our clapping did nothing, except hurt our hands. I know mine were as red as they had ever been before. Hurt like a Mofo.

That’s sort of the way I feel about polls right now. A week or two ago we – our team – were down in the polls, and now we are up! Clap, clap, clap! Oh how wonderful!

Well clap all you want, but remember this. The only poll that counts is the one in which you walk or drive down to your local polling place, sign in, receive your ballot and vote for Barack Obama and every other Democrat.

Got that? Voting is what counts. Clapping and other self-congratulatory cheering at “good news” – i.e., stupid horse race news such as the incessant and relentless coverage of poll results here, there and everywhere – makes one feel good, but it isn’t worth a damn thing.

So clap all you want, but more importantly next Tuesday, as bright and early as possible, go do the real work that is required of you as a citizen in our “still barely a” democracy – VOTE!

And then chide, harass and/or assist anyone else you know get to their precinct to cast their votes, also.

Do that and then maybe later that night we will have something to clap about.

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