Points of View

By the time I got into the office in the cobb house, George was already there going through the morning papers. He looked a bit wild eyed, as though his meds had worn off.
"Bush won the debate." he shouted as I swtched on my PC. I just smiled.
"Well, good morning to you too," my voice was syrupy with faux sympathy for a supporter of lost causes.
"Good morning. Bush won the debate." he repeated.
"He got his ass kicked." I pretended to be looking at some papers on my desk, but I guess my smirk of victory was infuriating.
"I judge a debate on substance not on style." Pompously, as if that settled it.
"Too bad you are the only one who sees a debate that way." I Said. "The proper scoring of a debate is on the best presentation of argument not necessarily the monotonous repetition of talking points."
"Kerry was weak on facts."
I just smiled at his pathetic defense of the president's inability to think on his feet.
"His record doesn't match his rhetoric." His voice more strident.
I yawned, wishing I had a cup of coffee.
"He's a tax and spend Liberal." George was shouting now. He has always believed that loudness trumps logic.

"Did you watch the baseball game?" I asked. Another losing debacle for the locals.
"I don't care what they say," He roared, "I thought the Red Sox won the game."