Carol Marin: Shirley Johnson of Knoxville, Tenn., just gave Hillary Clinton money. "I sent her $100," said my old friend. Shirley, it should be noted, does not throw money away. A retired special education supervisor for the county school system, she worked tirelessly and saved carefully. To this day, she shops like a homicide detective, tracking down any and all information before committing to buying anything.
When this long primary season finally ends, it's no longer going to be enough for Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama to kiss and make up.
Out of the legislative madness in Springfield this week came five little words said twice for emphasis: "I need a pay raise. I need a pay raise."
Out of the legislative madness in Springfield this week came five little words said twice for emphasis: “I need a pay raise. I need a pay raise.” It was Senate President Emil Jones speaking.
What took Barack Obama so long? Yes, the "old uncle who says things I don't always agree with" is no longer welcome for dinner. That was the Illinois senator's urgently delivered message about his fiery former pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, whom he had previously denounced but not, until Tuesday, disowned.
The past week was awful for Rod Blagojevich. And for once, you could see on the governor's relentlessly optimistic face the toll being taken as he spoke at a prayer breakfast Wednesday in Springfield.
Carol Marin: Time to take a timeout. Time to quit being surprised about anything when it comes to the Clinton-Obama fight for the presidency, including Hillary Clinton's victory last night in Pennsylvania. Gosh, listening to the cable chatterers, you'd think that until this pitched battle for the White House, American politics was marked by high-minded messages, not dirty little digs and Swift Boat saboteurs. That so much oxygen has been sucked up marveling about Clinton being negative and Barack Obama being forced to be negative back is baloney.
Carol Marin: On the southern edge of John McCain's Arizona where the tiny town of Sasabe meets the Mexican border, there sits a crazy looking fence. Imagine the wrought iron variety that our own Mayor Daley loves to put around every playground and vacant lot in Chicago.
Power brokers don't dial. Female administrative assistants -- whenever possible -- do.
