Women, keep running for president

The election of a woman president would have been the final infiltration, the last incursion into the tribal-magic male inner circle. You could call it a busting of the hardest glass ceiling. You could call it the ultimate wresting of control of the clicker, the thermostat and the wheel. Of course, one pantsuit in the Oval Office would hardly have been compensation for the whole imbalance, every crummy dollar-and-cents difference, or sexist exclusion.