The party of the future rallies behind an elderly suburban WASP lawyer whose father was a conservative businessman. Hillary Rodham Clinton’s immigrant grandparents turn out not to have been immigrants, just as Elizabeth Warren’s Indian ancestors turn out not to have been Indians, though Mrs. Clinton was one-quarter truthful about her ancestry, which is a hell of a lot more than Senator Warren can say. That’s too bad, really: If the imaginary Rodhams of old arrived on these shores and tricked the imaginary ur-Warrens into trading their land for a handful of shiny trinkets, that would have been a much better story than the burning question of whether Herself tipped at Chipotle.
It would also be a pretty good metaphor for the upcoming election. But back to the big news: Of course Mrs. Clinton didn’t tip. Herself has a date with destiny, and cash-handling is for the little people. John F. Kennedy Jr.’s colleagues at George (remember George?) used to shake their heads about the fact that the vastly wealthy young man was forever cadging coffee money off underlings — $100 million in the trust fund, but no latte money in his pocket. It’s weird being a super-rich person who has never had a real job. Ask Herself.