On a park bench in South Beach:  “Hey Herbie, how are you?”  “Oh, I’m fine Moshe, how are you?”  ”Well I’ve been thinking of all the times we’ve been meeting like this here, we have seen this place come and go and come and go and it’s back again.”  “Yeh, so what?

“Well, Herbie, I was wondering who you are going to vote for?” “Moshe, what the hell has who I’m going to vote for got to do with this place coming and going?”

“Herbie, haven’t you been reading the papers how Florida could play a big role in who the democratic nominee might be, and we could have another chance to vote again?”

“Moshe, what difference does it make, it didn’t count the first time, what makes you think it will count the second time?

“Herbie, who is running?”

“Oh, I’m not sure, but I think it’s between that white woman who is married to a former president who found Monica in the oval office and that black man who found Jesus from his pastor-friend in Chicago.”

“What difference does it make Moshe; it’s the same old same old.  We’ve been talking about this since we were kids in the Bronx.  Nothing changes.”

“Oh, no Herbie this year is different they’re talking about ‘change.’ ”

“What’s the change?

“Well this year we could be voting  for a white woman president or a black man president.  We’ve never had either one of those before and having two at the same time would be a double treat.

“And, as I understand it, the contest is so close they both could be on the same ticket.

“And, Herbie this would be just like us going to the Fontainebleau for an expensive ice cream soda.”

“Now how is that Moshe?”

“Well, we could have our favorite, a black and white, or a white and black ice cream soda, and as for change they say they are both interchangeable, although as for the status quo — they would still be expensive.

“Moshe, I think you better put your hat on, your forehead is getting a bit red.”