LONDON — “Come in. We love Americans.” It was a restauranteur hustling customers outside his establishment here in London. My wife and I are here for our anniversary.
The president of the United States wakes up some mornings seemingly determined to convince as many people as possible that he’s unsuited to high office.
There are sexual harassers, and then there is John Conyers, the Democrat from Detroit who made his congressional office an adjunct of his libido.
Still another Thanksgiving has passed, and I have done what I always do: nothing.