More from the UK… letting the Supreme Court thing move down now that I’m certain I’ve made my point…

Every TV I’ve seen in a public space here has been tuned to news channels, awaiting word from the States.  Every single one.  In rest area on the M40 highway.  In a pub during lunch.  In storefronts.  Everywhere.

And I promise you this is true: everyone I have met — everyone — is rooting for Kerry to win.  (Or, at least, for Bush to lose.  More that, in honesty.)

One conversation said it all: talking with a lovely woman named Shelley (name changed, privacy respected), about 60, just moving to Oxfordshire to live with her daughter.  Reserved at first, but quite friendly after a few minutes of chat about the misty weather.  She learns I’m an American.  Before I express any opinion at all, these words pour forth, no hesitation, as natural as commenting on the damp air: "Fuck all if the bastard wins.  Fuck all." 

Shelley catches her language.  Not the sort of thing a grandmother from Devon normally says.  A small smile.  My friend Jovanka catches up.  We chat about politics a bit more, a bit less coarsely.  We smile and go on with our days.

She didn’t have to specify who she meant by "the bastard."  Nor did she feel the need.  Obvious.  Implicit.  The world knows who "the bastard" is.

But do Americans?  I suppose we’re all about to find out.