So here's the thing. Am I the only one who thinks it's a bit peculiar -- a word chosen because it is more palatable than "looney" -- that every cable channel not showing "Cheers" reruns and every national TV blabbermouth still breathing spent a goodly chunk of January in Iowa? And that, after about 120,000 Iowa Democrats had coffee in schoolhouses and living rooms and participated in a voting system that is about as simple as a graduate course in calculus at M.I.T., those aforementioned blabberheads pronounced all sorts of profound conclusions as to the race for the Democratic presidential nomination?

And that...I'm rolling here...the candidates followed their forays into Iowa by heading for New Hampshire, another place that is as cold as, well, Iowa, so as to participate in another few days of groveling and cooking pancakes for people they will never see again, except maybe in four years?

I mean, my fellow citizens, we are electing an individual who has to go toe-to-toe with the Rooskies and the North Koreans, and one of our measures of the ability to do that is whether he can flip an egg and not break the yolk! The people who take this seriously don't need to be on CNN -- they need to be on medication. And those of us who are pinned to the tube late at night to get the voting percentages from Floyd's Crossroads really need a hobby.

Ah, or we could be crazy like a fox. And I don't mean the news network. Though if you watch much Bill O'Reilly...

In that spirit, we are today announcing formation of the Triangle Caucus. The caucus is going to be the new "first test" for presidential candidates. Iowa and New Hampshire go in January. Fine. We're going the day after Christmas. If the others move ahead of us, we'll keep moving. And if the blabberdeegibits hold true to form, then the Triangle will become the nation's new king-maker, the birthplace of presidents, the launching pad. Our hotels will be full of Wolf Blitzer and Dan Rather and all of 'em, and our restaurants will be packed to the gills with political consultants, and you can figure on about 934 of those per candidate. Yes, the economic impact alone will be striking. The Carolina Hurricanes will sell out every night to people to whom we can scalp our tickets for twice the face value, not that we would because that would be wrong.

Not to mention that compared to the weather in Iowa and New Hampshire, Raleigh in late December is Palm Beach.

And, friends, you'll note that I've thought of everything. In addition to bringing in all the expense-account television types and big-money consultants who are sitting beneath the candidates milking them like nice big cows, the candidates themselves -- because it is the day after Christmas -- will have to show up with presents for us all! (This is why, on registration forms for the Triangle Caucus, I am asking for your shirt, slacks and dress sizes, and whether or not you are allergic to cashmere. Too much? Are you kidding -- John Kerry, for one, is married to the ketchup magnate. And the Republicans will have all those Halliburton people coming in.)

Because this area has not heretofore been set up for caucuses, the only alternative for candidates will be to come to our homes, one at the time. Consider the benefits of that:

We take you to my house in a quiet, close-in neighborhood:

"Breakfast is on the way, Jim."

"Fine, fine. Hey...Gephardt, don't forget to vacuum under the throw rugs. Don't let me catch you trying to brush stuff under there. If you want my vote, I need to know you're the kind of guy who doesn't have anything to hide."

"You call this breakfast? I said over easy, and you gave me scrambled. Now take these back, Senator. You planning to use this kind of heavy hand on the doggone nuclear button?"

"Say, Lieberman -- what did I tell you about the collars? I said no starch, but I want them pressed evenly. Look at this! And you call yourself the integrity candidate!"

"Hey, hey...oh, no! I had Dean out there taking care of edging the lawn and the neighbor's collie apparently went, well, and now Dean's screaming and chasing the dog with some pepper spray and a .357!"

"Did Clark get back with my socks yet? Oh, there you are. No, no, no. I said I didn't want the kind with the tight elastic because it'll make little red rings around my ankles. Take 'em back. Oh, yeah, you will. I'm the general of this here army, pal. Now, drop and give me 20!"

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