Polls? Polls? We Don't Need No Stinking Polls!

I don't remember a time when there were no polls, but I do remember when there was just one, the Gallup Poll. I think it was named after the town that spawned it, Gallup, New Mexico. What kind of a name is that for a town? I'll have to look it up one of these days. I don't know the origin of all those other polls, but they should go back where they came from. We don't need them. Who cares what all those other people think anyway? If I want to know what to think, I just sit out in the garage with a beer and a cigarette and talk to myself. I'm usually unanimous, but I occasionally do disagree with myself. When that happens, I let the guys at the Institute settle the issue. If everybody was like me, those stupid polls would go out of business, and the country would be the better for it.

Then there was Jimmy the Greek. He was known as an "odds maker", which I think had something to do with sports. He got so good at predicting sports that they asked him to predicting other things like elections. I don't remember if any of his predictions ever came true, but it seems like they must have because he was so famous for it. I suppose old Jimmy is dead by now because, the last I heard, somebody had an  octopus in a tank that was predicting sports. They would drop two team emblems in the tank and, whichever one the octopus grabbed first, was predicted to be the winner of the next game. I haven't heard about that octopus lately, so maybe he's dead too. Why don't they use that groundhog in Pennsylvania to predict things? Maybe he wouldn't be so fat and lazy if he had to work more than one day a year.

It occurred to me today that I might be all wrong about Trump. Maybe they want Trump to win, and the only way to make that happen is to run somebody like Hillary against him. I didn't know about Trump's connection to the Mafia, but it doesn't surprise me. You know, I kind of miss the Cold War era. It was a lot easier to figure things out in those days. Everything was the Russians' fault, and any Americans who did something wrong were in league with the Russians. I guess that's a sign of old age, when you yearn for the simpler life of the good old days.