The Debate has assumed capital status in my head, somewhere between 9/11 and the day Jerry Garcia died.

Biden lost.

Democracy won.

Or at least what comes after Old White Guys.

Because we don’t have Biden at 51.

Or 61.

Not even 71.

This is Biden at 81.

Age has caught up to him.

He always said he was just a bridge.

He knew at 77 that he was there to walk the country back to civility, then hand it off.

Now, faced with that reality, he’s doing what any of us would: refusing to let go.

Believing in himself despite the facts.

Becoming a parody of his opponent, cursed with that same affliction.

The Debate was his to lose, set as it was in a way that should have played to his strengths.

But those left the building before he even took his place behind that lectern.

It’s not whether he could win the election, it’s whether he should. Because whoever’s in charge in the White House, the guy who’s prioritizing sleep isn’t it.

The Debate showed us what his staff wouldn’t: a president shielded from scrutiny by those unwilling to let go of power.

If he runs? Of course I’ll vote for him. The alternative is unthinkable.

Give America the chance to win this one.

The tribe has spoken.

Bring in the torch while there’s still a flicker.

Before time snuffs it out.