I was with my wife and daughter in the kitchen dishing out dinner Thursday evening, discussing the news of the day, when my cell phone rang. I glanced at it — unknown number from Orange County — and, even though I feared a salesman, took the plunge and said hello.
“Am I speaking with Roger Simon?” came a hoarse male voice. Now I was sure it was a salesman.“Yes,” I said in growing trepidation. ”Who’s calling?”“This is ‘Voters for Hillary’.”“What?!” I immediately thought it was a prank.
“‘Voters for Hillary.’ We’re —”
“‘Voters for Hillary.’ Are you kidding me? Didn’t you read the New York Times [1] today?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Uranium One. The Clinton Foundation. ”
“Yes. That’s right. The Clinton Foundation. We’d like your support. We—”
“Are you crazy?” I was starting to shout. ”Don’t you know what’s going on? Because of the Clintons, Putin got twenty percent of America’s uranium!”
“What’re you talking about?” The man sounded genuinely puzzled. This was news to him.
“What’m I…?” By this time I was shrieking into the phone. My wife and daughter were looking at me, half amazed, half hysterical. We had just been discussing that latest putrid evolution of the Clinton scandal [2], but getting into the weeds with this nitwit was more than I could handle. “Oh, forget it,” I clicked off.