Calm before the storm. Not calm exactly but a steady drone of calls for this and that, playing on every feeling one might be having. (The best are modest - Only if you can afford it - or combos: WE'RE CRYING tears of joy...) It's too much to handle, as if my $47 or $3 or postcards alone could save every seat in congress. A nervous tango of dread and hope, each trailing its own indecisive polls and predictions, has come to a still point. Tomorrow the real trouble begins, even if our better angels prevail. Pray for peace.