Remember the euphoria with which the race for the Republican presidential nomination began? Such a buffet of political talent! Governors and ex-governors galore!
By Tuesday those high spirits had deflated to a mewling plea for some indication — any indication — whether the party’s aghast traditionalists would have to make up with Donald Trump, make nice with Ted Cruz or make plans for bedlam at the convention.
“Clarity” was a wish they kept uttering, a word I kept hearing. It made them sound like fog-enveloped travelers or stuffed-up flu sufferers waiting for the Sudafed to kick in.
But Florida, Ohio, North Carolina, Illinois and Missouri weren’t at all certain to bring relief, not even with Marco Rubio’s devastating loss to Trump in Florida and suspension of his campaign. It was a mesmerizing development, given how long many Republican leaders and pundits clung to their forecasts of his eventual transcendence, which was like Godot: right around the bend, coming at any minute, just a matter of waiting, waiting, waiting …