Unless enough Republicans in Virginia, Maryland and D.C. still believe the Earth is flat, Senator John McCain will soon lock up the Republican nomination. My own political affiliations aside, I'm troubled by this.

Come November, McCain will be 72 years old. Now, I love my father more than life itself, but if he were running for president, I'd move to Canada. And my dad is six years younger than McCain.

Is this ageist? You bet. But, be honest. If racism were at the top, ageism ranks somewhere behind tattooism on the intolerance scale.

The thing about McCain is, at this point, he's less Maverick and more Matlock.

I completely respect what McCain went through during his military service. But frankly, I don't think it aids a presidential résumé. My dad was never captured by the Viet Cong, but he did recently spend three hours trapped in a Macy's parking lot during the Christmas season, and that alone disqualifies him, I think, to even handle the TV remote.

I know we're going to be treated to a lot of ads touting McCain's "experience." You know who else has a lot of experience? Dick Clark. And I'm not voting for him, either.

Basically, I don't want a president who will run the country the way my father would. I don't want the commander-in-chief shouting things like, "Don't make me pull this goddamn country over" when confronted with too many questions during a press conference.

Simply put, I can't vote for a president whose motorcade will constantly have the left-turn blinker on.

I can't vote for a president who comes to the door of the White House in a bathrobe and yells at protesters to get off his lawn.

I can't vote for a president who holds White House dinners at 4:30 p.m.

I can't vote for a president who refers to something as "newfangled."

I can't vote for a president whose biography will read Tuesdays with McCain.

Sorry, dad. I just can't.