And so, the race is on. Enough posters survived the Night of the Big Wind to keep us focused. We’re to exercise our democratic prerogatives in a few weeks. The plans and the pundits get a brisk outing on the course every morning Noonan night. We are accosted by cheery canvassers here, there and everywhere. It may be the longest three weeks ever with nothing for it but to endure. And yet…