Red Alert: Cows & Cemeteries

My late husband, Robert, was what the French call a "pince sans rire" — someone who can say the most outrageous thing with a straight face and have you believe it. Mr. All-innocence. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Hah!

An early brush with this talent (but before I'd recognized it for what it was) came when, shortly before we were married, we drove from New York City to Ithaca — Robert was a devoted Cornell alumnus and wanted to show me 'round.

On the last long stretch of country road, Robert suggested we pass the time by playing Cows & Cemeteries. It was spring, and herds of cows were grazing in the fields bordering the road. We'd count the cows on our own side of the car and keep a tally — at the end of the road, whoever had the most cows won. But if one of us announced seeing a cemetery (not an unusual sight; lots of pretty country churches in that part of the world) on our side, it would wipe out the other's cow total and he (or she) would have to start counting all over again from one.

This went on for a while, and it was fun. "Twenty cows," Robert would sing out. A few miles later, I'd come back with "cemetery!" As we approached Ithaca it was clear that I was winning; I had many more cows than he did. But at the last minute, just before we turned into town, there was a cemetery on Robert's side of the car!

Of course it was only later that I realized that he'd fixed the game. (I not only forgave him, of course, but I thought he was oh so clever. Adorable. Hell, I was in love!)

He knew this road like the back of his hand. He knew that the church with its graveyard would be on the driver's side coming into town, well beyond the last of the grazing herds. He knew that no matter how many more cows I had than he did, he'd emerge the victor. He had stacked the deck. He'd gulled me. Duped me. Mr. All-innocence.

The GOP, with its effort to steal the presidential election, is playing an infinitely more pernicious version of Robert's game. No matter how many cows we count, they'll have the last cemetery on their side of the road: those ill-gotten votes in the Electoral College.

And cemetery here is the operative word: another Republican administration will bury us.