The snail hunter of Kahalu`u doesn't hunt snails any more, but she still has opinions. "If this weren't happening, you couldn't make this shit up," I said, spotting her opening the back door to her car. "I knew if we ran into each other, we'd make faces," she said. "Was that guy paid off?" she asked about the shooter. (I didn't say it's hard to get paid when you're dead, but I took her point.) "He missed. He missed." What next? She looked at me hard and said, "Harris is Asian and Black; she can't win." I suggested an all-woman ticket, Harris and Whitmer, and she gave me intense side eye. Her tone, as she retreated to her gate, was sandpaper grim.
The deer hunter of Kahalu`u said as soon as he heard the assassination attempt, he knew it wasn't serious. He's a Democrat, but he knows all the rifles, all the rounds, and that wasn't going to do it. Michelle Obama would be his pick (I also heard this from another dog walking friend).
We all agreed we'd just have to wait and see. History is a bitch that way, when you're in it.
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