Dear Rick: Primaries are kinda like heavy traffic. There's no point in fighting to get ahead. Fuggedaboudit. Let the other schmucks lean on their horns, cuss at each other, stomp on the gas and then hit the brakes. They just stress themselves for nothing. Just relax. You gotta problem widdat? Good. Then you'll do just fine, Rick. Ain't ya cold in that sweater vest? Nah, forget the tip...you need it more than I do. --Cabby
