Fin

From the moment she stepped foot on the campus of Wellesley College in Eastern Massachusetts, receiving her first pampering session that the all-girls school is famous for, Senator Clinton began her journey into her faux world, a world you and I have no idea about...

...and in most cases have no desire to step into.

Off to law school, the big Arkansas law firms, the Governors mansion, then ultimately into a cozy little cottage on Pennsylvania Avenue in the nation's capital. A brief stop as a New York state Senator - incredibly unquestioned residential status - then finally straight into the blazing limelight known as the Democratic Presidential Race.

Whereas a normal person considers his or her moment of fame the time the letters to the editors of the local paper printed their diatribe on rolling stops and red light running, Senator Clinton really has no conception of the struggle of daily life; people taking second jobs so they can pay for the nicest hockey skates or tap shoes for their kids; what a real "village" is - homeowners association fees, idiot neighbors, and mowing your own lawn; taking the dog out for a poop; driving ones self wherever needed, to include filling that car up with gas at the "self-serve" pump. You know what, though? Up until this moment, Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton had no idea what I am talking about...however...

She just lost the thing she has envisioned since she took her first steps towards the chess club meeting the nanny had just driven her to. The thing that she had stepped onto each rung in the proper progression of to succeed. The thing her husband had, that she obviously yearned for each day she awoke in that magical house for eight years.

She lost.

In what surely must have seemed a slam-dunk to her 5 months ago - total victory over the Senator still metaphorically in political diapers - turned into her biggest nightmare. And she had the radical church with the nut-job reverend. And she had the wife with the big mouth that seems to say equally big stupid things. And she had the Hammas connection; the "whitey" tape that seems to be the focus of so much talk; the experience superiority she obviously held.

And still she lost.

There is a silver lining if indeed Senator Clinton has the wherewithal to look at it this way: Senator Clinton has - at least temporarily - entered the real world.

The world in which children actually get sick and die, leaving devastated parents with a shorter life expectancy because of it. The world in which the kids who do live sometimes strike out with the bases loaded in the championship game, dispelling the myth of the Hollywood sports movie. The world where hard working, honest to goodness fine people, lose jobs because the ownership of companies count the beans and discover that this year they'll only make $9 million instead of last year's $10 million, and therefore fifteen $37,000.00 a year employees have to be fired; the world where $4 for gas totally sucks big-time; the world where no matter how good you are, no matter how hard you pray, and no matter how many good deeds you've done for total strangers, sometimes it just doesn't work out in your favor.

Welcome to the real world, Senator. If you choose to stay with us, you'll find out it's a much more satisfying and fulfilling place to be. No kidding. We may not be members of "Penelope's Petunia Society" over here in the real world, but we get a big kick out of bringing our roses from mere seeds into full bloom once a year. Our fingernails have dirt under them, our clothing is designed by Ross Dress for Less and TJMAX, not some seriously gay dude from south beach in Miami who had all his body hair removed, our haircuts cost $25 at Supercuts, not $375 from the Miami guy's cousin at "Chez Flaming Hair Salon", and our shoes are $35 Reebok's from Sears, but by and large we're a happier bunch.

After you've cleaned off that substantial plate of humble pie, you should consider staying. There is always the possibility that your daughter will give birth to a boy, and on one sweaty, hot, summer afternoon, you may indeed be sitting on some aluminum bleachers as your grandson becomes the player that hits a single with the bases loaded, winning his team a little league championship.

And you, Grandma Hillary? You'll begin to realize this is the finest moment of your life.