Instead, he will go home to Florida to rest and — this is the best part — "get some fresh clothes."
(Note: several readers have emailed to say that Massachusetts does not tax clothing, either, and that Carson could, as one reader put it, "shop south of the [Massachusetts-New Hampshire] border to save some cash and better yet, since he is a Republican, not feed the government that they all profess to hate." That's not entirely accurate, however. Clothing items that cost more than $175 — like, say, suits for a presidential candidate — are taxed at 6.25 percent. Most other states tax all clothing purchases. New Hampshire is one of the few places Carson could freshen up his wardrobe tax-free.)
Political reporters and strategists have no idea what to make of Carson's decision. The most obvious theory is that he is preparing to drop out, but his campaign insists that is not the case.
There it is again: Fresh clothes. In fact, no fewer than three Carson aides reached by various members of The Washington Post staff cited the need for them in announcing why Carson was departing the campaign trail. This wasn't just an offhand excuse from Carson himself; it was the company line.
Thus, we're all left baffled. I mean, it's hardly surprising that a 64-year old — well, anyone, really — would be tired after months of a grueling campaign, but a presidential candidate isn't supposed to let on, right? I can hear Donald Trump's voice in my head: "low energy."
Here's a sampling of how Carson's announcement was received, starting with a top former Mitt Romney aide:
Whether Carson realizes it or not, the laundry trip is especially funny because of this line from a debate last month:
"You know, when you go into the store and buy a box of laundry detergent, and the price has gone up — you know, 50 cents because of regulations — a poor person notices that," Carson said.
Apparently, these costs are now prohibitive even for a wealthy retired neurosurgeon raising tens of millions of dollars for his campaign.
Hey, maybe Carson is just being frugal — you know, exercising the kind of fiscal discipline we need in the White House.