Having been unable to afford housing in New Hampshire this fall, Lisa and I have left the campground for a warmer climate. We will be spending some part of the winter, fewer trips home for holidays, in South Carolina. This required us to hitch our camper to my truck and travel south.
During our 1000 mile trek, I was able to make some observations. The highways in Connecticut are abysmal (especially Interstate 95).
But beyond that, the supporters of Joe Biden are as hard to see as Joe Biden himself. There were only two occasions that we saw Joe Biden signs, one in a yard when we were off the high way to sleep for the night in Rockingham County, Virginia (the only other Rockingham County in the several States), and the other by the highway when we were driving in North Carolina.
We saw lots of Trump signs. They varied from simple yard signs to a farmer by the highway who had put blue tarps over the roof of his barn and painted white letters. Makeshift billboards by the interstates. Barns by the Interstates sporting giant trump signs. At least one in lights.
Once in South Carolina, we set up camp. The number of sites sporting trump flags and signs is impressive. Not one Biden sign or flag. The conversation in the gas stations and stores is all pro-Trump. One fellow in line in front of me wore a tee shirt with words that ought not to be in print denigrating Joe Biden. I even saw a small airplane trailing a Trump banner. The support for the President here knows no bounds of race or gender.
Even now, I am returning from a business trip to Texas where all of the conversations from the control room of the chemical plant to the street have been pro-Trump.
Nothing guarantees an election other than the ballot box. But … virtually every ounce of enthusiasm I have observed has been for President Trump.