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New England Christmases are picture-postcard perfect, full of glittering, sparkling, twinkling everything. On December 26, everything turns gray: sky, snow, ice, moods, people; everything is Soviet-Union-stand-in-a-breadline gray. The shift is sudden, jarring and depressing. Brains hibernate, bodies autopilot and the countdown to St. Patrick’s Day begins.
Today is December 26.
“I don’t understand how you can work for that guy. He’s completely sold out, you know. He’s turned his back on everything the Democratic Party stands fo