Greetings from the Ridge.
Don’t laugh until you’ve heard me out. It might be one of the strangest ideas you’ve seen to bust loose the legislative constipation that’s got its hold on the halls of the U.S. Congress, but it just might work.
Anyone who’s diverted his eyes away from his text messaging in the last couple of years knows that we are paying millions of bucks a day for a Congress that’s pretty much worthless. No matter whether you vote blue or red you know that lobbyists and the hopes for the next election have completely erased any hope of good sense ruling in the House or the Senate. Pure vindictiveness has taken the place of patriotism. I therefore propose the following:

Greetings from the Ridge.
I knew something was fishy when the Chicago police surrounded our plane. We’d just landed at O’Hare when a covey of police cruisers circled the plane and the gentlemen in blue started taking long guns out of their trunks.
I’d experienced some memorable landings. In Honolulu sarong-clad girls draped flowery leis around our necks, and in Sydney we were each handed a toy koala bear as we stepped off the plane. We’d once landed in London on the Fourth of July to find an Uncle Sam on stilts in the airport to remind us that although the dollar wasn’t worth much against the British pound, we’d still won the war, and in Heidelberg, Germany an oom-pah band had serenaded us as we walked off the plane. But the Chicago police were pulling out all stops.