Cast Away

Dear New Hampshire:

We like you. We really like you. People say we don't, just because you all occasionally get cranky and start comparing us down here to the godless Communist Russians whose empire got canceled back in '91, thereby depriving spy movies and international hockey of all their best villains. But, hey, didn't we send you a card on that tragic day when the Old Man of the Mountain became the Old Man in a Pile by the Side of the Road? We didn't? Well, we meant to, but there was an important meeting of the Politburo that week, and you know how that goes.

Anyway, as much as we really do like you, we - and several million of our fellow citizens elsewhere - are not entirely sure that you should be picking the president every four years. Therefore, we don't like your chances in your efforts to fight off the attempt of the major political parties to begin the nomination process in larger and less-pale places elsewhere. For reasons known only to God and (perhaps) Senator Harry Reid (D-Bellagio), the Democratic Party would like to start in Nevada. This might even be enough to shake the inexplicable quadrennial crush on you that the National Political Press develops. Let's see. Snowy back roads in Coos County vs. the Strip. A pancake breakfast in Bedford vs. the V Bar at the Venetian. Karaoke night at the Wayfarer in Manchester vs. the showroom at Caesars. I'm talking as your friend here. Give reporters a choice between neon fleshpots and homespun New England values, and - even though David Broder hasn't looked good in a tall headdress and a jeweled bustier since some time during the Nixon administration - I think the creeps are going to stand you up.