She reached in the trunk and pulled out the customary brown shopping bag she always brought. In it, no doubt, were a few bottles of ginger ale, a couple trays of pecan swirls, and a half gallon of skim milk.

It’s rather amusing to think she had a girlhood crush on a guy who basically looks like a caricature of himself.

I’ve always been fascinated by Benjamin Franklin—a man who was basically the Swiss Army Knife of our founding fathers. Instead of tiny, foldable wrenches and miniature scissors, Ben was spring-loaded with piss and vinegar and political savvy and freaking electricity.